


Disconnected

by ApostateRevolutionary



Series: Disconnected [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: (tags to be updated as needed), Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Sexual Tension, Slow Build, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-28
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-04-11 17:00:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4444445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ApostateRevolutionary/pseuds/ApostateRevolutionary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident happens, and Justice finds himself in a peculiar position, outside of Anders' body. Having already begun developing a relationship while they were one, things are far more confusing when you can't feel each other’s emotions anymore, let alone all of the other complications separation brings. As it turns out, being alone in your own mind can be incredibly lonely.</p><p>*** Please see the notes for a disclaimer ***</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER:** The premise for this story is an event that is not seen as positive by the author in any way, shape, or form. It is not being used as a solution, but as a source of discomfort, angst, sexual tension, awkward pre-relationship shenanigans, and mutual pining that will all be resolved eventually. Neither of the characters directly affected are happy with the results, but instead must learn how to deal with yet another difficulty, and that is how it is presented. This is sort of my answer to people who think separation would solve all of the problems, and make Anders more “fun” again, etc., because the whole point of it is to show that no, it actually makes everything a fuck ton harder for everyone

Anders’ body would not move. Justice strained, trying to get it to do something, _anything_ , but it was as if they were bound by invisible chains. The Templar, the leader of the group, smirked, letting the paper he’d used to bind them fall to the ground. They were all around them, wanting to harm them, to _hurt_ them. Justice snarled internally, wishing to destroy them, to rend their limbs from their bodies, to stop the injustice he knew was going to occur. While Justice fought and growled, the other Templars watched, carefully, uncertain what to do until their leader spoke.

“You can relax, boys, he can’t move. So if you want to have some fun before we kill him, now’s your chance.” He called, smugly, and Justice roared in their mind.

Slowly, the Templars started to relax, moving in closer. Justice was pushing with everything he had, feeling sweat run down their body’s face with the effort. It had never been this hard to exert his will before, not in the Fade, not while in Kristoff’s body, and not even while sharing Anders’. Whatever they had done to this form, it was beyond Justice’s experience, and he knew not how to break it, but he would not surrender, would not allow any harm to come to his mortal. One of the Templars closed in, gripping their jaw painfully in his fingers, leering down into glowing eyes. His own were full of filthy desires, wishes to do actions that were wrong, _unjust_ to Anders, and it only made Justice push harder.

The spirit thrashed inwardly, pushing and pushing until something finally snapped. With a howl of rage, Justice surged forward, grabbing the offending man’s arm by the wrist and tearing the limb right off. The Templar screamed, a panicked sound filled with agony abruptly cut off when a glowing hand tore into his throat. The spirit looked next to the leader, who was staring in shock, and he was on the Templar in moments, drawing the sword from the man’s scabbard and thrusting it into his chest. Blood bubbled from the man’s lips, and Justice twisted the blade, ensuring he was finished.

His bright, glowing gaze found the rest of the Templars, who finally had the sense to draw their weapons. Justice roared with fury before rushing in, slashing at each one, none of them managing to even land a hit. The battle was over quickly, leaving Justice breathing heavy as he stared down at the bodies, ensuring that none of them moved.

Among the lifeless bodies that were once Templars, his eyes found another body, one that was breathing. The spirit tilted his head, confused, as he stepped forward to investigate. The mortal was face down, unconscious but still very much alive. They wore a tattered coat that had… feathers? Justice looked down at his hands, oddly faint blue lines racing across fingers and palms that definitely still belonged to Anders. He paused, unsure what to do, before gently rolling the living mortal over to see their face.

Had he been human, accustomed to how mortals usually reacted to things, he would have jumped back upon seeing Anders lying on the ground below him. Instead, his forehead scrunched up in bewilderment. Justice did not understand. He inspected his own body again, seeing everything as it had always been. He still wore Anders’ tattered coat and high boots, still had Anders’ thin form and long legs. Yet Anders was also lying before him. Was this some sort of trick?

In his confusion, he’d almost forgotten where they were, in the secret tunnels beneath the Gallows. It wouldn’t be long before more Templars came. And while they could not hurt Justice, they could do so to Anders, if this was indeed Anders. If they were no longer in the same body, which is the only conclusion the spirit could draw, it would not be as easy for Justice to protect him. That was troubling.

Deciding it best for Anders that they departed from this place at once, he gently picked up the body that matched his own, cradling the mage’s limp form in both arms, against his chest. Justice then made their way through the tunnels, and back to Darktown. He did not know what he would do once they returned there, but he needed to ensure Anders, if this was Anders at all and not just some illusion, was safe. So he vowed to take the mage to the closest thing he had to safety.

When the spirit finally strode into Anders’ clinic, he gently placed the mortal onto one of the examination tables, laying him flat, and then Justice furrowed his brow. Was Anders injured? If he was, those injuries needed to be taken care of. But he had no idea how to do that. He’d watched as Anders had healed people, countless times, from the back of their mind, yet it was not something he was capable of. In this… form, whatever that may be, Justice could still feel the pull of the Fade, as he always had, but the kind of magic Anders’ body was capable of was cut off from him. No healing, no flames, none of it.

Frowning, the spirit looked around the room. There were potions for this sort of thing, potions that restored health to a mortal’s fragile form, he just did not know which one that was. Justice strode over to the shelf where such concoctions were kept, gingerly picking one up, uncorking it, and smelling the liquid inside. His mind sung, a beautiful melody nearly driving out all else. This one was lyrium, that much was certain, and it took a considerable amount of willpower to replace the cork and return the bottle to the shelf. Pleasant and beautiful it may be, it would not help.

He picked up another, red in colour, and smelled it. It was familiar, something Anders had drank before, but Justice remained unsure if it was the correct one. The spirit regarded the bottle for a moment, before putting his finger inside the neck and dipping it into the liquid within. He then brought the finger to his mouth, licking the fluid to taste it. Considering for a moment, Justice thought this may have been the correct one. He’d only ever experienced the taste through Anders, the sensation dulled, but this one seemed right.

Moving back to the examination table he’d laid Anders on, Justice gently grasped the mage’s chin, opening his mouth and slowly pouring the liquid in. Anders coughed a bit at first, but then swallowed automatically. The healer remained unconscious, and Justice furrowed his brow again, unsure what else he could do. Anders needed his help, and this was the first time since they’d merged that he was powerless to provide it. He was about to go rummage through the shelf again when amber eyes fluttered open, looking around in confusion. When those eyes found Justice, they narrowed, and then the mage yelped in shock, just about jumping right off the table before the spirit grabbed his shoulder to steady him and prevent further injuries.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This might be a good time to mention that I'm putting this story in-canon with my fic [Comfort](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4104589), a little PWP I wrote a while back for those who don't remember or didn't see it. That fic takes place before this one, and is referenced in this chapter as well as future ones, thus why I've now made this a series with that one coming before this one

Anders came to tasting hints of the earthy flavour of a healing potion. Had someone given him one? Who? He’d told the others to run when the Templars came, letting Justice handle them. He remembered… flashes. Justice had been stopped somehow. Then crippling pain had ripped through him, followed by a sense of emptiness and loss, and then… nothing. He was lying down, he could tell that much, but he had no memory of what had happened.

Slowly, the mage opened his eyes to find a figure standing over him. The figure seemed to be… glowing. Literally. _What?_ That didn’t make sense. Anders opened his eyes fully to see… himself. The figure was him, but with cracks of blue lightning racing across his figure, though they were fainter than he remembered them being, only showing on the skin and not shining through his bulky coat. _Justice? What?!_ Alarmed, the mage cried out, thrashing and nearly pitching over the side of the table. Justice, if that’s indeed who this was, grabbed his shoulder to stop him from falling over completely.

Anders swallowed against his dry throat, before asking, “Am I… Are we… dreaming?”

“This is not the Fade.” Justice answered in his deep rumble.

“But… What… How…” Anders couldn’t make sense of this at all.

“I… do not know. You are Anders, yes?” The spirit asked, tilting his head to one side.

“Yes, I’m Anders. Who else would I be?” He was still a bit out of it from whatever had happened and was having trouble forming thoughts.

“I do not know, but I could not be sure until you woke. We have been… separated.” Justice explained.

“How is that possible? Where did you get a body? Why do you look like… me?” Anders was on the verge of panicking, shallow breaths coming too quick. This didn’t make any sense. What was happening?

“I do not know. Your form… it is natural to me now. I suppose I chose it without meaning to.” There was a wrinkle between Justice’s brows, and it was clear the spirit was just as confused as Anders was.

“But _how?_ Justice, what the hell happened?! I don’t remember anything after you being… frozen? Wait, did that happen?” The healer’s voice was rising now, his panic showing. He was anxious, needing to get up and move, but Justice’s hand was still on his shoulder. Though Anders was not being held down by it, the pressure was enough to make him feel claustrophobic in his distress.

The spirit’s lips turned up in disgust. “Yes. That did happen. They were going to do… unjust things to you. I could not allow it. I fought against their bindings and then I was free of them. I killed the Templars, then found you lying among their corpses.”

Anders’ head was spinning now. “Are you saying you… _willed_ yourself out of me? And that you just… gave yourself a body?”

Justice seemed to consider it for a moment. “I… do not know. It appears it is possible.”

The mage couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. They’d made the decision to merge partially because Justice needed a host to exist here. There was no way for him to conjure himself a body and yet that seemed to be exactly what happened. Anders still didn’t understand it, still wasn’t sure this wasn’t some insane, bad dream. Maker, what the hell was going on?

“You are laughing.” Justice said, frowning.

Anders was barely able to stop long enough to speak. “Yes, Justice, I’m laughing.”

“I fail to see the humour in this situation.” He was still frowning.

“It’s not…” Maker, this was going to be interesting. “It’s not about humour, it’s… This is absurd. Did you know this was possible? For you to create yourself a body?”

“I did not.”

Anders knew he was being truthful, since Justice didn’t know how to be anything else, but he still sighed. The mage then started to sit up, and Justice removed his hand, making it simpler. It was then that the healer noticed a hollow ache in his chest, a longing, almost, the feeling of something missing. He frowned. Was this a side effect from their separation?

“You are troubled.” Justice declared, not quite making the statement into a question.

“Are you… feeling this too?” Anders asked.

“I do not know what feeling you are referring to. I feel… strange. There is something… missing. I cannot hear you anymore.” The spirit said, seeming forlorn.

“Ah, that’s what I was referring to. I feel it too, Justice.” Anders said, still unused to talking to him like this. It had been years since they’d spoken face to face and they’d been together, constantly, since then.

Justice then placed his hand back on Anders’ shoulder, and the ache lessened a touch. The spirit’s glowing eyes widened slightly for a moment, telling Anders he’d felt it too. Well that was… strange. Maybe it was something that would go away over time. They’d been merged for so long that being alone felt… _wrong_. Like somehow Anders was half of a whole now, incomplete. It wasn’t painful or anything, but it wasn’t pleasant either. They had shared something special, something so intimate he couldn’t even explain it, and now their unique connection had been cruelly ripped away and they didn’t even know how it had happened.

“It is better when I am touching you.” Justice said quietly, as if he’d just discovered something new and worthy of awe.

Anders had to admit it was too, but this was also starting to get a little weird. He was reminded of that one night, not long ago, when Justice had become involved in Anders’… ‘alone time’. It had been pleasant, yes, and he’d very much enjoyed it, and thought about what it meant for him, for Justice, for _them_ , for what they could be. But now that Justice was here, physically somehow, in a body that was basically Anders’ own, it was… The mage decided he didn’t want to entertain that thought any further, and he was suddenly grateful his mind was only heard by him now. He needed to look into this, to find out what had happened, to tell someone and make sure he hadn’t just finally cracked under all the pressure he’d put himself under.

“You are thinking of something. What is it? I cannot hear your thoughts anymore.” Justice asked, sounding saddened, still resting his hand on Anders’ shoulder.

“I’m thinking we need to talk to someone about this. Or find a book, or… Maker, I don’t know, this is too screwed up for me to handle right now. I need to… I don’t know.” Anders dropped his shoulders, letting Justice’s hand slide off and ignoring the discomfort that followed.

“We could speak with Hawke.” The spirit said, to Anders’ surprise.

It took a moment for the mage to recover from that suggestion. “I thought you considered her a ‘distraction’?”

“She is. However, she is also someone you trust, and she may know where we can find information on… this.”

“True. Okay, I’ll go talk to Hawke and you can… Um…” Anders trailed off, unsure of what Justice should do.

He didn’t exactly want to let him loose in a world he only barely understood, nor did he want to leave him to dwell in the clinic. But if he brought the spirit with him, he might give Hawke, or Bodahn, or Leandra, or someone, quite the scare. And if Hawke had someone over right now… Anders almost laughed at the thought of Sebastian or Fenris finding out there were two of him now, sort of. Their faces would be priceless.

“I would prefer to come with you, if that is acceptable.” Justice said, “It is… uncomfortable to even be this far away from you.”

Anders sighed. He couldn’t argue with that. There was a lot of potential for an awkward situation, that much was obvious, but he wasn’t sure what he’d feel if they were too far apart either. This was already uncomfortable, _wrong_ , and Anders knew Justice was feeling it too. And the spirit still had a lot of trouble when it came to intense emotions. He’d never been good with any sort of feeling that wasn’t directly related to the concept of ‘justice’, and that was something they’d been working on.

“Alright, Justice. We’ll go together. Just… Let me talk first, okay?” Anders said, as he got up, walking towards the clinic door.

Justice followed, nearly at his heels, closer than a mortal ever would. “Understood.”

Anders sighed as they left. At least Hawke had let him use the cellar entrance. He didn’t fancy taking Justice all the way up to Hightown the traditional way, what with all the stares from townsfolk and suspicion from Templars that were sure to come. He got the feeling this exchange was going to be uncomfortable enough for everyone involved.


	3. Chapter 3

Anders opened the trapdoor to Hawke’s estate, peeking carefully out to see who was around. Bodahn, who’d been cleaning something nearby, jumped at the sound of the hinges creaking, before turning around and letting out a relieved breath when he saw it was only Anders.

“Good afternoon, messere. I’m afraid you startled me.” He said with a chuckle.

“Umm, yes, sorry. And you too. Is Hawke here? I need to talk to her.” Anders said, hoping Bodahn could get Hawke to come to him so he could explain before surprising anyone with Justice.

“Of course, messere. She’s just in the library.” Bodahn answered, before going back to his cleaning.

_Shit_. “Umm… Could you perhaps grab her for me? I have a, erm, problem.” He asked awkwardly.

Bodahn blinked in confusion, but Anders knew he would do it. “Oh, of course. Just one moment.”

Anders let out a breath of relief. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, standing on the ladder and sticking halfway out of the trapdoor, but he didn’t want the Fade spirit standing below him, just out of sight, to surprise or frighten anyone, or have the same happen to him. When Hawke finally made her way to them, she looked worried.

“Anders? Is something wrong?” She asked, raising an eyebrow when she saw him sticking out of the ground.

“Well, sort of. Something, um, strange happened.” Andraste’s arse, how was he supposed to explain this? He sighed. “Look, it might be easier if I just showed you, but I don’t want you to be too shocked, okay?”

She crossed her arms, looking at him with utter confusion, as Anders finally climbed the ladder all the way in. He was about to turn and gesture for Justice to follow, but the spirit was already halfway out. Hawke’s eyes widened as she watched, her eyes flicking between the two of them once they were standing next to each other.

“I am Justice. Anders has told you of me.” Justice said, though the introduction was likely unnecessary.

“I uh… Gathered that.” She said, still staring at Justice, “Anders, what the hell happened?”

The pitch of Hawke’s voice had risen so high as she spoke that the last word had almost been a squeak, confusion mixed with concern clear in her words. Anders knew it wasn’t so much that she was afraid, because she’d never been afraid of Justice, but that it was too strange for her to deal with.

“We, uh, don’t rightly know. I was doing some work with the Underground, and we got into trouble. I don’t remember much, but they managed to… stop him, somehow. And then, also somehow, we’re separate now.”

“Indeed. I do not know how this happened either.” Justice chimed in.

Hawke just stared for a few more moments, clearly unsure of how to handle this. Anders didn’t think he’d ever seen her speechless for this long. Maybe he’d just broken her brain.

“Look, no one here knows what’s going on and… Well, since I don’t know what else to do, I’d like to look into it. Figure out what happened, and how. Find out whatever we can.” The mage said, running a hand through his hair anxiously.

“But you don’t know where to look.” Hawke said finally, looking at Anders now, seeming to magically know where his mind was heading, like usual.

“Correct.” Answered Justice, “We would appreciate any information you may be able to provide.”

The rogue looked at Justice again, still seeming perplexed, and thought for a moment. “Based on what you’ve told me about magic and the Circle, I doubt anything on this will be easy to come by.”

“I don’t think it’ll be easy either. Maybe something from Tevinter? If there’s anything on this out there, I imagine that’s where we’d find it. I’m just not sure _how_ we’re going to find it…” Anders said, trying to imagine just how the hell they were going to get their hands on potentially ancient Tevinter texts, let alone translate them.

“Leave that to me.” Hawke said with more certainty than Anders expected. “I have to run out to the coast shortly, so I’ll bring Merrill and Varric and then swing by the clinic when I’m done. I know, I know, you don’t like her, but the Dalish could have information on this too. And if not, Varric can get his hands on almost anything. I was actually going to ask you to come but… I imagine you have enough going on right now.”

As the rogue finished her sentence, her eyes were back on Justice, who was staring back at her with that unblinking gaze of his. Justice tilted his head when she did not look away.

“Is there something you wish of me?” The spirit asked, more curious than anything else. Anders briefly wondered how he knew that, given that Justice wasn’t exactly good with facial expressions.

“I just… I’ve never met a spirit before. Not properly, that is. We have met, after all, just not… like this.” Hawke said, biting her lip slightly, unusually awkward.

Though Anders figured some awkwardness was to be expected. After all, the Fade spirit he’d been sharing his body was now very much outside of his body, and no one could figure out why or how. But hopefully they’d be able to find some information, even if it took time to translate. If at least some of these questions could be answered, maybe it’d be less bloody uncomfortable and weird.

“This is true. I understand there are standard behaviours for mortal introductions.” Justice said, before extending one faintly glowing hand in such a way that suggested he was going for a handshake. “I believe this is the correct gesture for such a greeting.”

Okay, no, nothing was going to make this any less weird. Anders decided that right then and there. Justice was being polite, which was good, but his understanding of mortals was still very lacking despite living inside one for the last three years. But, to be fair, he’d spent the rest of his life – a literal eternity – not paying attention to them at all. In light of that, confusion was the only logical outcome, and Anders couldn’t exactly blame him.

Hawke, to her credit, extended her hand and grasped Justice’s to shake it. “Nice to meet you, Justice.”

“Likewise.” Justice responded. “So long as you do not distract us further from our cause.”

Anders wanted to groan in exasperation, but he spoke instead before this conversation had the opportunity to get uncomfortably personal. “Yes, well, now that the proper introductions are over, I imagine you need to get to the coast?”

Hawke was still looking at Justice quizzically, likely wondering what the ‘further’ was referring to, but Anders’ not-quite-quelled feelings for her was something he desperately did not want to talk about. She’d turned him down, gently, mind you, and that was the end of it. Unfortunately, however, Justice was well aware of the effect she still had on his host.

“Oh, right, yeah, if I don’t leave soon, we won’t be back before nightfall.” The rogue answered, and Anders had to resist sighing in relief. “I’ll swing by the clinic with the others when I’m done, okay?”

“Sounds great.” Anders said, now allowing his relief to show. “Thank you for this, Hawke.”

“No need to thank me.” She replied, grinning. “What are friends for?”

“We shall await your return.” Justice added, to which Hawke nodded and turned away to get ready.

Anders motioned for Justice to head back down into the cellar so they could make their way back to the clinic. The mage still wasn’t sure how they were going to kill the time until Hawke returned. Unless there was some sort of accident in Lowtown or something, his number of patients likely wouldn’t be high enough to fill the gap. The healer huffed slightly as they arrived back at the clinic, realizing that chatting about this, and Maker only knows what else, was the most likely outcome. Anders wasn’t even ready to fully acknowledge how unhappy he was with the whole situation to himself, let alone talk about it with the very being he’d been ripped away from.


	4. Chapter 4

“What is it you seek to discover about our situation?” Justice asked, his low voice always pleasing to the ear.

Anders was seated on his cot, still trying to ignore the aching loss in his chest, while Justice was sitting across from him at the desk. “I… don’t rightly know, Justice. I just… it’s easier to deal with things that are known. Unknowns are complicated. I suppose it’s a mortal thing, but the more you know about something, the less weird it is.”

The spirit paused, taking in his words. “I suppose I can understand that. Absolutes. They are simple, easy, clear. I prefer them as well.”

There was a long moment of silence, neither of them really knowing what to say. This was uncomfortable and strange. They’d spent so long together without speaking, finding other ways to communicate, that it seemed they were both at a loss of what to say now. So many times Anders had wished they could speak face to face again, even just once, but now that it was possible, he just kept drawing a blank. He’d become used to their previous method of communication, sharing thoughts and feelings, brushing against each other’s consciousnesses. It’d been difficult at first, but now it seemed so much simpler, so much better than words.

“What is it you hope to learn?” Justice finally asked, and Anders caught the barest hint of distress coming from him. Why? Did he fear something?

“I don’t know, Justice. I’m less interested in what we find, so much as that we find it.” Anders sighed, running a hand through his hair, currently loose. “I just… Maker, I just want to make sure we’re both okay, that there’s nothing we need to watch out for.”

The spirit considered that for a moment. “I see.”

When Justice didn’t elaborate, Anders was confused. It seemed like he was holding something back. Holding what back? Justice had always been blunt, never afraid to speak his mind. The very idea of it was nothing like him. What was different this time?

“Is something wrong?” Anders asked, tentatively.

“Nothing is wrong. I was merely wondering.” The spirit sighed, a very human sound. “Tell me, if you discover it to be possible now that we are no longer one, is it your wish to return me to the Fade? To be… rid of me?”

Of all the things Anders could’ve expected Justice to say, that was certainly not it, and he was very much taken aback. Though the spirit’s tone was as strong and commanding as it always was, and his expression betrayed nothing, Anders could somehow sense the underlying vulnerability. Justice was capable of doubt and concern and being troubled, he knew that from their talks in Amaranthine and all the time they’d spent sharing a mind, but to hear him be troubled by _rejection_? That was new. Clearly this must have been something he picked up from Anders’ own mind. That must have been it. Not that Anders would ever dream of doing something like that, of course.

“No, Justice, of course not. We’re…” There was another flashback to that night, the one where they’d shared far more than the word Anders wished to use to describe them suggested, but he chose to use it anyways. “Friends. I just want to make sure we’re both okay, that’s all, I promise. I never would’ve asked for even this much of a separation. No one’s going back to the Fade. Unless you want to, of course. Do you want to, if we find out you can? I don’t want to make you stay if you don’t want to.”

The spirit hummed slightly, deliberating. “I do wish to return one day, perhaps. This world is intense and overwhelming in many ways, but I have taken a liking to it. Had you asked me before, in Amaranthine, I suspect I may have answered differently. But now… I would not wish to part from you, not after all you have shared with me.”

Anders felt his blood rush to his cheeks at that, a familiar static gathering under his fingertips, signaling how flustered he was. He didn’t know why, but sometimes his magic had a mind of its own when it came to awkward moments. Justice knew it too, presumably – it’s not like they were capable of secrets when they were merged. The mage flattened his hands against his thighs, hoping it would go unnoticed as the sparks discharged, tingling a bit, into his legs.

“Yes, well, I’m glad I could help you enjoy our world. Even given the darkspawn, oppression, inequality, and general chaos all around.” Anders joked, hoping to avoid the direction this conversation seemed to be going.

“It is not that simple. There is much ugliness, much to be changed, yes, but there is also beauty. I can see it in your life, in the lives of all mortals. I know you are aware of this.” Justice said, not quite accusingly, tilting his head to one side.

“I know I am, too. It was just a joke, Justice.” The mage said with a sigh, staring at the ground.

“Anders,” the sound of his name on the spirit’s lips forced Anders to look back up, a little shiver running up his spine, “I have known your mind, felt as you felt. You make jokes often when you are experiencing discomfort. Are you uncomfortable?”

 _Oh, Maker._ Anders thought, desperately wishing he could lie, that he could simply say it was strange to talk face to face again and that was all. But while it was strange, that part was true, that’s not all it was, not even close. And lying to Justice was not possible. He could always detect any deception, no matter how minor. Anders’ mind scrambled for a response that was both true and not incriminating when they heard a knock on the clinic door.

“Ser healer? Are you there? My sister is in labour!” Called a distressed voice, and Anders got up, a bit too quickly, to help.

The mage turned back to the spirit as he reached the threshold between the clinic and the small area he’d sectioned off as his own quarters, tying his hair back up so it wouldn’t interfere. “Sorry, Justice. Duty calls.”

“You need not apologize. I understand full well the importance of your patients.” Justice answered, “I will remain here, unless you require my aid.”

 _Perfect._ Anders thought as he opened the clinic door, and a woman was ushered in by family members as he directed them towards the cleanest examination table. Perhaps he should’ve felt guilty, being so pleased with someone else’s distress, but the distraction couldn’t have come at a better time. He would’ve felt worse had it been a true injury and not giving birth, something that was generally considered a good thing, and that was enough to quell any lingering doubts. The mage’s hands flared blue with magic as he moved to examine the woman on the table, forcing himself into the calm, healer state of mind.

It was a long afternoon and a difficult birth. The baby was apparently a stubborn one, not wanting to leave its mother. But Anders made sure it happened, and that both mother and child came out of it in one piece. The mage was concerned by how much effort it was taking to heal, likely a side effect of the separation, given that he was a _spirit_ healer. Drawing on the energy of his own resident spirit had made things significantly easier. Of course, that didn’t mean he was going to stop giving the level of care he and his patients were accustomed to; it just meant the whole process was far more exhausting.

By the time the labour was done and the new mother had recovered enough to walk out with her new baby, Anders felt like collapsing, his mana mostly drained. His forehead was slicked with sweat, his head was pounding, and his legs felt weak. Maker, had it always been this difficult before? The healer could no longer remember. He took a step in the direction of his personal area and a wave of dizziness nearly overwhelmed him, and he had to lean against the cot to steady himself.

“Are you alright?” Justice asked, concerned, and apparently having come out from behind the thin dividers that passed for walls down here.

“Yes, I’m fine, I’m always fine. Just tired. I didn’t realize how much harder it would be now, without you.” Anders said, refusing to admit he may have pushed himself too far after so much had already happened today.

The spirit looked troubled, but said nothing and walked over to where Anders was leaning against the cot. After a moment of what appeared to be apprehension, Justice placed a hand softly, yet firmly, on the mage’s shoulder. Immediately, Anders noticed the ache in his chest that he’d almost forgotten about dissipate, the physical connection soothing the loss they’d experienced. He could also feel Justice’s presence more strongly, more so than just the physical touch. The power only a spirit possessed that hummed beneath his skin, the kind of power Anders knew just how to draw on, if permitted, having done so countless times before.

“Use my strength. You should rejuvenate yourself.” Justice said simply.

“I’m fine, really. I’ve been far more tired than this and kept going, we both know that.” Anders answered, waving a hand for emphasis.

“That may be true, but it should not have happened then either. It is an injustice towards oneself to neglect one’s own care. You need to keep your strength up. Please, use me.” The spirit responded, not removing his hand.

Oh Maker, it was a good thing Justice wasn’t aware of innuendo. Anders’ cheeks went up in flames again as his mind blanked for a moment, and he then pulled a rejuvenation spell forward, with Justice’s help. It was a few seconds too late, but the mage still hoped it helped covered up the sparks that would no doubt be tingling all over if he hadn’t. But oh, it did feel good to get some strength back, and Anders very nearly moaned at the pleasant buzz of the spell. Once he felt like he could move again, he cut off the flow of mana and took a deep breath. Yes, it was definitely much better now, he had to admit that.

“Thank you.” Anders said with an exhale. “That did help.”

“I am glad. I do not like to see you expending yourself so.” The spirit said, giving a nearly imperceptible nod.

Justice’s hand was still on his shoulder, Anders noticed, and their eyes locked for a moment, that familiar tension back. Maker, why was this so much harder to deal with now? They’d been… something more before, when they’d still shared his body. Or at least, they were well on their way there. After that night, will all of the sexual and non-sexual intimacy they’d shared, things had clearly changed. They’d just gotten to a good place with their merger, figured how to communicate, and were in the process of allowing themselves to be something more when they’d been so cruelly ripped apart. And now they were… here, and Anders, for some reason, just couldn’t bring himself to be as blunt as he knew he could be with Justice. It was so much simpler when Justice could just read his thoughts, know exactly how he felt at all times; emotional communication had pretty much been instant, and always honest. Now, Anders had to voice his emotions himself, and that wasn’t something he was great at, especially without the added honesty of the spirit in his head.

The moment drew on, and Anders’ mind was racing, trying to figure out how to extract himself from it, to listen to the old instincts in his brain that told him to run, always, from everything that scared him. And of course this scared him; it was weird and unusual and he was fairly certain you weren’t supposed to fall for Fade spirits. They really should’ve made that a day one lesson in the Circle. And when he hadn’t had the choice as to whether or not to voice his feelings, since Justice could feel them as his own, it’d been so much easier to ignore the fear and apprehension and just focus on the good parts.

Anders wasn’t sure if it was just his imagination betraying him, but he could swear Justice was gradually moving closer to him. The mage could feel the static building under his skin as his colour rose again, when they heard the sounds of heavy boots just outside the door, reaching the threshold only a moment later.


	5. Chapter 5

“–really happened! Oh, it’s just so fascinating, I can’t wait!” Came Merrill’s voice just before Anders looked over to see the trio enter his clinic.

The mage jumped, surprised by the sudden arrival, and managed to extract himself from the awkward position between Justice and the examination table. The spirit straightened and Anders tried to collect himself as the group approached.

“Hey, Hawke.” Anders said when he caught her eye, “Anyone get hurt on the coast?”

“No. Well, none of ours at least.” She answered lightly.

The healer was going to greet the others as well, to be polite, but they were both staring straight at Justice, who seemed more curious than anything else under the attention.

“I take it you, uh, told them what happened?” Anders asked when no one spoke.

“She did! Oh, this is so exciting.” Merrill answered, beaming, before Hawke could open her mouth. “Hello, Justice. I’m Merrill. Oh, but you probably knew that already, didn’t you?”

“Greetings, Merrill.” Justice replied. “You were already known to me, yes, through Anders.”

“So what’s it like? The Fade? Coming to our world? Sharing a body? Do you like it here? How did you get separated? Where did you get your body? How does it work? Are you human now?” Merrill continued excitedly, her barrage of questions beginning to make Justice look uncomfortable.

“Maybe we should slow down a bit with the questions.” Hawke interjected. “He’s had a lot to deal with today.”

“No kidding. We’ve seen some weird shit, but this is definitely the weirdest.” Varric said, finally speaking.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I understand. But when you’re feeling better, I’d love to talk about all of this.” Merrill said, smiling warmly at Justice.

“Yes, mortal, at some point we can discuss the nature of my situation. But, for the moment, I believe we have another task to attend to.” Justice said, regaining his composure.

“Right. Merrill, I take it your clan has no knowledge about this?” Anders asked, trying to keep the focus on productive conversation.

“Not that I know of, no. The Dalish know more of the Beyond than most, but I’ve never heard of anything like this, and I was a First. If it was known to our clan, I would know.” She answered, not to Anders’ surprise.

“As I thought. Varric, do you think you can get your hands on any books that might pertain to this? Perhaps from ancient Tevinter?”

The dwarf rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I know a guy. If anyone knows where we can find something on this level of weird, he does. But I can’t promise you’ll be able to read it.”

“That’s fine, Varric. We can handle the translation if we need to. I was in the Circle once, remember? A lot of texts on magical theory are written in Tevene.” Anders paused, letting out a controlled breath, relieved that at least there was some hope amidst it all. “Thank you. I just need to know what’s going on here.”

“I’m sorry, I know you’re a bit overwhelmed, but can I look at you? I mean, I’ve never seen a spirit before, not like this. And you glow! Like lightning bugs inside you! But more… blue.” Merrill continued, looking as though she might burst from excitement at any moment.

The spirit tilted his head to the side for a moment, but then nodded his assent. “If you wish.”

Merrill then stepped forward, taking one of Justice’s hands to inspect the glowing cracks. Varric watched on, as did Anders, wondering just how much inspection Justice would allow. Probably more than Merrill would ask, truthfully. Modesty was not something the spirit concerned himself with; at least, not that Anders was aware of.

As Merrill poked and prodded at Justice, Hawke suddenly pulled Anders to the side. Her voice was low when she spoke.

“Is everything alright?” She asked.

“What do you mean? You know this situation isn’t exactly… comfortable. But as far as I can tell, we’re both fine, physically, at least.” Anders answered, confused.

“That isn’t what I meant. You looked a little flustered when we got here. I know you two have an… unusual relationship. But is everything fine there?” Her voice was gentle, as if she were concerned he’d get offended.

In truth, Anders was more surprised than anything, especially considering she’d apparently noticed his blushing earlier. “Oh no, it’s fine. Okay, it’s weird, but it’s not…” He sighed. “Everything’s fine between Justice and I, or at least as fine as it can be, considering what happened. This is just going to take some getting used to. Neither of us are happy about it.”

It was a lie of omission, and Anders knew it, but his hope was that Hawke didn’t. He was flustered by Justice. Hell, he was more upset by this whole ordeal than he was willing to acknowledge, even to himself. He didn’t want to admit it, but it had only been half a day and the mage already missed his companion more than he could say. Which was especially annoying considering Justice hadn’t actually gone anywhere. He was right here, they just… couldn’t communicate the same. And Anders found himself completely incapable of being honest with him now, since he hadn’t exactly had a choice before. It was frustrating, and he was trying very hard not to think about it, and not to think about the effect the spirit had on him.

Hawke took in his words for a moment, before nodding. She moved to return to the group, but Anders stopped her.

“Oh, before I forget, do you happen to have an extra sword lying around? It doesn’t have to be good, but it would be nice for him to have a weapon. Justice was a warrior before we merged, and I think he misses it after living in my body for so long. We can outfit him properly later, but I think it might help him feel safe. Which I’m sure he really needs right now.” Anders asked, wringing his hands – Maker, he hated asking for things.

“Oh, of course.” Hawke said, completely missing his discomfort as she slung her impossibly large pack onto the ground and began to dig through it. “I picked up a nice one today. I was going to sell it, but it’ll be far more useful in his hands, I imagine.”

“Like I said, it doesn’t have to be a good one, I just–” Anders was cut off by the rogue shoving a sheathed sword into his arms.

“There. It’s yours. Or Justice’s, rather.” She said happily, before pausing for a moment. “He can fight like this then? Think he might be willing to come along on some of our errands?”

Anders blinked, mind going blank for a moment. So long as it was something Justice didn’t object to, he could see no reason why not, especially if it ended up being a time when she helped mages. It just hadn’t occurred to him that she might ask.

“I, uh, I suppose he might. Although I would like to come, too, at least the first few times. There are still a lot of things he’s not familiar with, and I’d worry about him. He’s, uh, my friend.” Anders finally said, trying not to fidget uncomfortably.

Hawke gave him a gentle smile. “I understand. You care about him. You can trust me not to put him in a situation he’s uncomfortable with, if I can avoid it. And of course you can come along. I’ll never complain about having the resident healer along.”

“Yeah, I, uh, do. Thank you, Hawke. He’s formidable, that’s for sure, but I need to look out for him. At least until we both get settled here. It’s going to be much harder for me to keep him safe now.” He replied, giving her a hesitant smile in return.

“Wow!” Merrill’s cry, followed immediately by an alarming crash, brought their attention back to the others.

Anders had missed the cause of the commotion, but he could piece it together, based on Justice’s stance and the wooden debris that had once been an abandoned, empty crate sitting just outside the door of the clinic. Justice still had his power over the Fade, then, and Anders found that strangely comforting. Some things were the same, at least. Anders gaped at him, and the spirit responded with what was almost a shrug.

“You’ve had a body of your own for less than a day and you’re already participating in wanton destruction?” The mage asked, voice tinged slightly with amusement.

“It was not wanton.” Justice said indignantly, sounding mildly offended at the very implication, “She was curious about my abilities. I merely demonstrated them.”

“Of course.” Anders said, smirking slightly.

“And it’s not ‘unjust’ to destroy other people’s crates?” Varric asked, chuckling.

Justice missed the humour completely. “That crate had been present in that spot for a number of weeks since its contents were unloaded. It was abandoned. Now it can be used to keep our patients warm.”

The dwarf shook his head, still amused. “Right.”

“Right, well, as much as I’m sure we’d all love to play ‘smash the crates’, it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted from running around the coast all day. So if you two want company on the walk out, we’ll have to go now.” Hawke said, drawing the attention of Varric and Merrill.

“Fine, fine. This magical shit is too weird for me anyways. Blondie, why can’t normal things happen to you for once?” Varric asked, turning to follow Hawke.

“Trust me, Varric, this wasn’t exactly something I expected. Or wanted.” Anders answered with a wan smile, the second sentence coming out a touch quieter than the first.

“Oh, I’m coming too! I get so lost sometimes when I go alone.” Merrill called, following. “Have a good night, Anders, Justice.”

“Farewell, mortals.” Justice said, as they left.

The group stepped out of the clinic, and Anders followed to close the door for the night. He was exhausted too, the day holding far too many unpleasant surprises for his liking. Tonight was certainly one for sleep. As the mage grabbed the door, he realized he could still hear the conversation of his friends just barely carrying through Darktown.

“You’re only walking us home so you can see Rivaini, aren’t you? Perhaps for a little late-night escapade?” Varric asked, and Anders could hear the dwarf’s smirk from here.

“I don’t think my ‘late-night escapades’ are any of your business, Varric, nor are they anyone else’s. No matter how loud and disruptive they usually are.” Hawke responded, likely smirking as well.

Anders slid the door closed then, bracing himself for the stab of jealousy he usually felt whenever Hawke talked about Isabela. This time, however, it seemed his heart just didn’t have the energy to be stung by it. Whether it was simply because the loss he’d experienced earlier had been so potent in comparison, or because his efforts to let go were finally yielding some success, Anders decided this was a good thing. The mage let out a breath, then turned to find Justice’s burning gaze on him.

“Sorry if that was a little overwhelming. I think this is strange for more than just us.” Anders said, aiming for a light tone.

“There is no need to apologize. That was… more than I was expecting, but I am fine.” The spirit responded.

“Glad to hear it. Now, I was thinking of trying to get some sleep. It’s been a long day for us. Do you need to sleep? Are you… mortal now?” The healer asked, realizing he actually had no idea what Justice’s situation was anymore.

Justice seemed to consider it for a moment. “I do not believe so. I have felt your fatigue, but I do not believe I am feeling any myself. Nor do I feel anything else that might suggest that I have become mortal.”

Anders nodded, not sure if that was better or worse than the alternative. “Oh, and I got you a sword from Hawke. I know you missed being able to fight like you were used to while we shared my body, so I thought you might like it. It’s a good idea for you to have a weapon anyways.”

The mage held out the sword, and Justice took it, looking it over almost reverently. He pulled the blade free of its sheath, holding it up to admire the metal. It was relatively plain, and Anders didn’t know much about swords, but it seemed to be of good quality. Justice gave it an experimental swing, pointedly away from Anders, nodding once when he was done.

“It is excellently made. Thank you, Anders. I will use it well.” He said it like a promise.

The mage smiled softly. “I’m glad you like it. Now, while I’m asleep, will you be okay?”

“I do not see why I would not be. I have a weapon in case anyone attacks, and you have many books. I enjoyed reading when we were in Amaranthine, and I do not believe that has changed.” Justice said, seeming perplexed by Anders’ concern.

“That’s perfect then. You can sit at the desk, if you like, or wherever.” The mage's words were interrupted by a yawn. “And if you need anything, wake me, alright?”

“I appreciate your concern, but I believe it is unwarranted. I will be fine.” The spirit insisted.

“Okay, okay. I just want to be sure. I’m going to settle in then.” Anders said, moving back towards his personal area within the clinic.

The healer had stripped down to his undershirt and trousers, since sleeping in his bulky coat wasn’t exactly comfortable, when Justice came around the corner with a stack of books. Anders had tried to keep his books contained to the area immediately around his desk, but considering how many Justice had collected from around the clinic, that had clearly failed. The spirit then planted himself at the desk, pulling a book from the stack as Anders settled into his cot.

The healer blew out the candle next to his bed, but didn’t ask Justice to do the same with the one on the desk. He slept better when there was some light anyways, something he was sure the spirit was aware of. Anders then turned over on his side, facing away from the desk, and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep. He tossed and turned for a time, sleep failing to come despite the exhaustion radiating through his body. As he finally managed to drift off to the Fade, without company for the first time in years, Anders never would’ve thought it could be so lonely to be alone in your own head.

What he did not see, however, were the glowing eyes watching his trouble worriedly, the incandescent gaze only travelling back to the book when the mage’s breathing finally evened out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I just wanted to take a moment to thank everyone for the wonderful comments! I'm terrible at responding to them because I'm awkward and never sure what to say, but I do read them all, and then grin like an idiot. So they are definitely 100% appreciated, and I'm really glad you've been enjoying the story so far ^^


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basic summary: Justice is sad, and I need to go the fuck to jail lmao.

Justice watched Anders’ trouble to sleep with concern. He knew it was sometimes difficult for the mortal to find rest and slip off to the Fade, but it seemed different this time. He had to wonder if it was related to their separation, something that troubled the spirit as well. This world was… emptier without being with Anders. When Justice had first found himself in the mortal world, he’d been astounded by its beauty, nearly overwhelmed by the wonder of it all. But he knew now that his initial experiences were nothing compared to what he’d experienced while merged with Anders.

Anders’ mind had showed him so much more. Justice saw much ugliness there, yes, as he learned the truth of the Circles, felt all of the pain and anger and fear Anders had felt over the years, experienced the injustices that had occurred as if they’d happened to himself. But that was only the beginning. He’d learned directly of how mortals experienced the chaotic, overwhelming world they resided in, and the beauty of that was indescribable in any language, even more intense than what Justice had experienced when he’d first arrived in this world.

Anders was so beautiful, so strong and perfect, and he remained completely unaware of it. When they were one, Justice had tried to inform him of these feelings, but the limits to their communication made it difficult to do so in those words. Anders knew Justice cared for him, but that was all that seemed to have made it through the barrier. They’d tried to dismantle it as much as they could, practiced non-verbal communication, but it had been far from perfect, still needing work. And, unfortunately, they were now cut off from that, despite all the effort they’d put into it.

And now… Anders was acting strange, evasive. Was it related to what had happened? Or was it something more? Justice did not know. He knew Anders had a habit of trying to escape from anything that frightened him. Justice wondered if that meant Anders feared _him_ now, something the spirit had never wanted. He just wanted to help, to soothe the mage’s concern and show him that things didn’t necessarily need to change. They could still be… whatever they were becoming before. Lovers? Perhaps that was the word.

But Anders had not been receptive to this so far. He’d been nervous, disquieted, it seemed, and Justice did not understand why. Had things really changed so much? The spirit knew Anders cared for him, in that way, and yet the mage continued to avoid it. Justice had seen, through Anders’ memories, that this sort of bond was something he craved. But it was also something he feared. A relationship with Karl, that mage from the Circle, had made Anders complacent, unwilling to fight anymore. He had been too happy to continue trying to escape as he had prior to meeting the other man. Was that what Anders feared now? That a relationship with Justice would make him too content to continue their work? It was a groundless fear; Justice would always encourage him to continue working towards what was just. Anders’ perseverance and will was one of the reasons Justice cared for him so much. It was Anders’ passion that had brought them together in the first place.

Or was it because Justice was not a mortal, like him? He had to admit, spirits creating a bond such as this, even with each other, was not something he was familiar with. He knew it was something that occurred, but he had never engaged in such a bond before. But that did not mean he couldn’t, nor did it mean he was unwilling to. Love… it fascinated him. And he had to wonder if Anders shunned him now because Justice was not of the same kind, wishing to find a mortal lover instead. When they were merged, all thoughts were bared to one another. Obscuring them was all but impossible, and Anders was even less skilled at it than Justice was. There had been some hesitation before, yes, but Anders could never deflect, hide the way he felt from Justice, and now he could. The spirit just did not quite understand why he was doing so.

It was also possible that this was simply another strange behaviour of mortals. Justice knew they frequently practiced deception, of various forms, hiding thoughts and acts and emotions for a myriad of reasons. This was one thing that would always remain a mystery to him, the spirit thought. Firstly, he could see through it, somehow having the ability to perceive beyond the lies and omissions. Why he could do this, Justice did not know, but it had proved useful before. He suspected it had something to do with his nature as a spirit. And secondly, Justice saw all of the lies and omissions and half-truths as completely useless. Such deception only served to complicate matters. Why would one not simply share their thoughts? Explain their emotions? It seemed so much simpler than the peculiar tactics they employed when it came to interactions with their own kind.

And now Anders seemed to be employing the same techniques on him, despite knowing that all of the deception and pretense was unnecessary. It was equal parts curious and frustrating, particularly when Justice knew him so acutely well. He still had trouble with many mortal mannerisms and behaviours, but Anders’ were much simpler to deduce after having learned them straight from his mind. The reddening of his cheeks, his change in speech, and the uncontrolled sparks of magic he’d tried to hide but that Justice could feel as a pull of mana all signaled that Anders had been affected in a particular way by their conversation. The spirit also suspected Anders did not know he was aware of just how flustered the mage had been, or that Justice knew full well what that sort of reaction meant.

A tingling alarm in his mind broke Justice’s train of thought. He furrowed his brow, trying to determine where the feeling was coming from. Glancing over at Anders, Justice discovered the mortal’s sleep had become more restless. That, combined with the foul presence he could sense, told him what was happening. Rage flooded through him as he stood, and then sent forth a wave of energy. The power washed over Anders, banishing the demon that had been plaguing his dream, and the mortal went back to sleeping more deeply.

It was a few moments before Justice sat again, troubled. This was a complication he should have, but had not, foreseen. When they were merged, no demons had dared to come near Anders, not with Justice there to protect him, driven off by a powerful spirit’s mark of care. Yet it seemed now the effect was gone. And Justice knew this would not be the only danger he could not keep Anders safe from. Now that they were separate, it would be more complicated to monitor his state of mind and body, to know when he was in trouble. Justice wished nothing more than to protect Anders, a desire so strong it had sundered them in two. But, in his desperation to protect his mortal from harm, he’d ended up doing harm in the process. Both directly, as he knew all too well that Anders was feeling the same hollow ache he was, and indirectly, considering that every fight the mage engaged in from now on would be far more risky. If Justice could not protect him, or failed to do so properly again… No, he did not wish to even consider it. Anders was too important.

But had there truly been another option? The spirit had not known that this would happen, that it even _could_ happen. Should he have allowed the Templars to do the vile, deplorable things they had wished to? Certainly not. Even knowing the consequences, Justice firmly believed that he had acted correctly. The alternative would have been far more harmful for Anders, and thus was not an option. Yet still, Justice could not help but feel as though he’d failed the mortal he’d charged himself to protect. Perhaps he could’ve fought harder, could’ve taken control sooner, done something different that would not have led to this.

Justice let out a growl of frustration. It was pointless to dwell on what could have been, and yet he found it difficult to stop, the distress coiling and burning inside him, unwilling to be denied. He couldn’t tell if it was sadness or anger, or perhaps some of both, but it would not leave him. Was ruminating over what could have been a habit something he’d picked up from being in the mortal world for so long, or was he doing it simply because of how upset he was by the results? It did not matter. What had occurred was now inescapable, at least for the moment. Perhaps there would be a solution later, but there was not one now. What mattered is that Justice continued to do what he set out to do. To help Anders give freedom and justice to all mages, and to protect him from harm as they worked towards that together. If they could be more while doing so… Well, Justice could only hope.

Anders shifted on his cot, rolling over so he was now facing Justice while still very much asleep, catching the spirit's attention. Justice had not even realized he’d been breathing until his breath caught at the sight. He’d never seen Anders like this before, so relaxed and at peace. A lock of hair that looked like liquid gold in the dim light of the candle had fallen over his face, and Justice had the inexplicable urge to walk over and move it out of the way. Where had he learned that behaviour? It must have been from Anders’, or maybe even Kristoff’s, memories. Regardless of the source, Justice felt the desire strongly, accompanied by a burst of warm emotion, without being certain what either meant. Is this what it felt like to care for someone in that way? To love them? Justice did not know, could likely never know for sure what this feeling precisely was.

The only things he did know for certain were that he cared for Anders, that he felt their loss acutely and mourned it at least as much as Anders did, and that at some point he would have to broach the subject. Bluntly. Anders may not wish to, but Justice knew it would be better that way, for both of them. But he would not do so yet, not until Anders seemed at least somewhat more receptive. It was unfortunate that they could not mourn their separation together, with behaviours mortals found comforting (and that Justice very much thought he would enjoy as well) such as touch, but if Anders was not ready to consider this yet, it would be wrong to push him so far. Justice would do his best to give the mage time, time to figure this out. It would be difficult, yes, for the spirit longed to bridge the gap between them, even if they could not be one again, but if it was what Anders wanted, then Justice would try to be patient. Anders’ needs were paramount, even if that meant ignoring the distress churning angrily within him. It had to be done, for Anders’ sake.

Justice sighed heavily and tried to push these thoughts from his head for the moment. They’d been forced apart too recently, and there was much to be done in terms of recovery for both of them. Until they had new information, there was nothing they could do but mourn, and then move forward. The spirit picked up the book again, one about the history of Kirkwall, and began reading to avoid dwelling any further. And he was mostly successful in focusing on the text before him that night, save the stolen glances at Anders’ sleeping form, ensuring the mortal was safe and undisturbed, just as he had when they’d shared a body.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoopsie, this kinda ended up being really long haha. But there was really no good place to cut it, so you just get an unnecessarily long chapter XD

A few more days passed without much incident. Anders’ clinic had been busy, since it seemed there was some sort of outbreak in Lowtown. He wished he’d had time to grab some more supplies, but the steady influx of patients just seemed to continue endlessly, and he’d been forced to ask a messenger from the Underground to grab some herbs and bandages for him, if it wasn’t too much trouble. The days flowed together, with patients coming regularly until he collapsed at night. It was still much more taxing to heal, and he found himself having to rely on Justice to rejuvenate himself more often than not. But truth be told, Anders was grateful for the work, because it meant he didn’t have to think. It was much easier not to think about how much it hurt, how the ache in his chest hadn’t abated even in the slightest, how he did or didn’t feel about Justice when he was too busy to worry about anything save his work.

Justice was, well, if Anders hadn’t known better, he would’ve said the spirit was sulking. Justice had spent most of his time reading, or observing from afar as Anders healed, able to do little else given that his appearance might frighten patients. There was a tension, perhaps frustration, coming from the spirit that Anders couldn’t determine the source of. Was he simply upset because of their separation? Or was there more to it? And how was Anders even able to determine that? The mage didn’t know, and hadn’t had much time to deal with it given how busy he’d been. He knew he should ask if Justice was alright, and Maker, he wanted to, but between his patients and his hesitation, there was no opportunity. And Justice was probably taking this even worse than he was, especially without having a distraction to help keep his mind off it.

Just as the constant tide of patients finally seemed to have ended and Anders was taking a moment to reorganize his supplies while Justice read in his personal area, a familiar voice broke his concentration.

“Anders?” Hawke called as she stepped into the clinic.

The healer turned around, and moved to greet her. “Hey, Hawke. Is there a problem?”

“No problem, just got some work I thought you might be interested in tagging along for. But first, how are you feeling?” Hawke asked lightly.

Anders blinked, still unused to friendly interactions like this, even from Hawke. “As well as I can be, I suppose. Varric managed to find some books that might help, so I’m just waiting for them to arrive. You have some work I might be interested in?”

Hawke ignored his question completely. “That’s good to hear. And how about Justice?”

Anders blinked again, and before he could answer, the spirit in question strode out from behind the dividers. “I, too, am doing as well as can be expected. Being in this world has always been… difficult, and that has not changed. But I appreciate your concern for me.”

Hawke looked surprised, but quickly moved back to friendly. “Ah, that’s good. I imagine it can’t be easy to be here.”

“It is not, but I will manage.” Justice answered simply.

The silence that followed stretched into the uncomfortable, and Anders decided to break it. “So you said you have some work?”

The process of Hawke’s attention refocusing was nearly visible. “Oh, right. Actually, you both might be interested. I got word from Mistress Selby about an apostate who ended up being picked up by bounty hunters. She wants us to free them.”

Anders’ interest was certainly piqued. “Rescuing an apostate in trouble without turning them in to the Templars? Of course I’m interested.”

“As am I.” Justice declared. “This is important work.”

Anders’ gaze snapped to Justice, concerned. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected Justice to want to help, but he was worried this was too soon. Would he be alright? Anders knew the spirit was still having trouble adjusting and to put him in such a situation now…

“Are you sure, Justice? That you should be doing this so soon?” Anders asked.

“I could ask the same of you. We are both in the same position.” Justice reminded him.

“I know but–” Anders started, but Justice cut him off.

“Do you expect me to remain here, doing nothing but read forever? I cannot. My purpose is to fight for those who need it, to protect them and to campaign against the injustice perpetrated against them. You cannot deny me that.” Justice said, not quite harshly, but with conviction.

Anders looked away, staring at the ground. “I know, Justice, you’re right. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe. I don’t want you doing anything you’re not ready for.”

“I understand.” Justice said, almost gently, coaxing Anders to look at him again. “I appreciate your concern, but I am not as fragile as you fear. It is you we should be most concerned for. It is more difficult for me to protect you now that we are no longer one, and your mortal body is far more delicate.”

Anders almost had the mind to be offended at being referred to as ‘delicate’, but he knew what Justice meant. “I suppose. If you’re sure about this, I won’t stop you. Not that I could, anyways. Just be careful, alright? Tell me if something’s wrong.”

“Anders.” Justice’s arm twitched, as if he was going to reach out and touch the mage before him, but then thought better of it at the last minute. Anders found himself wishing the spirit had’ve done so. “You need not fear. I will be fine, and you will be present to ensure it.”

The healer let out a long breath. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll try to relax.”

Anders then turned back to Hawke, realizing she’d been standing there watching their exchange the whole time. Calling the expression on her face awkward would’ve been an understatement, and Anders felt the same. That was a bit too personal of a reveal for his taste. He sighed, exasperated.

“I, uh, sorry about that. We’re in. When are we leaving?” He asked, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, um, as soon as Aveline gets here. I didn’t think you’d turn me down, so I told her to meet us at the clinic. She should be here any moment now.” Hawke replied stiffly.

So there would be another warrior coming. That was comforting, particularly since it was Aveline, and not Fenris. Both because Fenris was an ass, and because Aveline was far more concerned with protecting the squishier members of the party than just wildly slashing at everything in sight with a big sword. Justice not being the sole source of protection was definitely reassuring.

Anders knew he probably shouldn’t be so concerned, that Justice was far stronger than any mortal and could take care of himself, but he couldn’t help it. It was different when they were together. They could work to protect each other. And it had been some time since Justice had fought on his own, without Anders providing balance. Hell, it was true for Anders, too. Things would be different now, and the mage wasn’t sure exactly how yet. That’s what worried him.

Just as the silence was beginning to get uncomfortable again, Justice remarked that he should grab his sword, then walked towards their personal area where it was kept. Anders then thought of another potential complication.

“Did you tell Aveline about our… situation yet?” Anders asked, a bit nervously.

Hawke nodded, starting to act more natural now. “I did. She seemed… confused, but so did we all. It won’t be a problem.”

“Good.” Anders answered, “I should find Justice a cloak or something to wear until we get out of the city, though. The glowing’s a bit conspicuous.”

Hawke gave him a chuckle. “Good idea.”

Anders then went to rummage for the cloak right as Justice returned, sword hanging from a belt he’d managed to find somewhere. The healer decided not to question it, and began digging through his trunk of belongings. Moments later, he rose, turning to find Justice watching him curiously.

“I was just looking for a cloak. You’re a bit noticeable on the streets, so you’ll just have to wear it until we’re out of the city. Is that alright?” Anders asked.

“Of course.” Justice answered, taking the offered cloak.

The spirit wrapped the fabric around himself, pinning it in place. Anders was a bit surprised Justice knew how to do that but, he supposed, Justice likely knew how to do anything he did. They’d shared a mind for three years; Justice wasn’t nearly as clueless as he’d been when they’d first met, no longer quite the same being that arrived in full armour for a friendly visit back at Vigil’s Keep. Time with Anders had changed him, and the mage would have to keep that in mind.

Aveline arrived quickly, greeting Hawke and then at least trying to be polite in her gawking at the Fade spirit standing in front of her.

“The cloak’s a good choice. He’d draw far too much attention in the city otherwise.” She remarked.

Anders tried to ignore that Aveline was talking like Justice wasn’t actually here. “That’s what I thought. Once we get out on the coast, it won’t matter so much, but before that, it seems like the wisest plan.”

The Captain nodded, then addressed the spirit directly. “Justice, I presume?”

“Greetings, Guard-Captain.” Justice replied.

“I have to admit, I expected you to be…” Justice tilted his head when she paused, “Angrier.”

The spirit seemed perplexed. “Why would you expect that of me?”

That surprised Aveline, and it took her a moment to answer. “I suppose I’ve only seen you when you’re angry enough to come out.”

“This is true. Injustice angers me, and there is much to be found here, but it is certainly not the only emotion I experience.” Justice informed her.

“I suppose that makes sense.” She said, then turned to Hawke. “We should get moving. If we don’t hurry, whoever they’ve captured might be sold by the time we get there.”

“Good point.” Hawke said, nodding, and the group then moved out, Justice pulling up his hood until they made it out of the city.

* * *

Anders was beginning to regret this. Not for any of the reasons he thought he might, such as Justice getting hurt, or someone else getting hurt because of him, or the spirit being overwhelmed and having something resembling a panic attack, or anything like that. No, it was most definitely the philosophical debate happening behind him that had started as soon as they’d made it to the coast and showed no signs of stopping that was driving him up the wall. The mage had already suppressed a series of groans, and it was getting harder with every point brought up.

“But how can one ensure that the law is always just? How many actions are always wrong, never justified?” Justice asked, the passion in his voice reminiscent of all the nights he and Anders had talked in Amaranthine, discussing mages and freedom and justice.

“Alright, I’ll give you that, there aren’t many. Slavery. Rape. Blood magic. Those are never excusable, but not much else.” Aveline conceded. “But killing people is wrong often enough that outlawing murder is clearly the right choice.”

“Your reasoning is understandable. But how does your system of law tell those who are innocent, who acted out of righteousness, from those who acted for less pure reasons? Murder, as you call it, for the protection of oneself or others? Or from someone enacting the justice they were denied?”

“That’s what the courts are for. If you kill someone in self-defence, or in defence of another, it’s not wrong. But we can’t have everyone carrying out their own justice in the streets. That’s why we have the law.”

“How many mortals here have been denied justice due to their social standing? If an elf rightly fights off a nobleman, the elf may still be the one punished. Mages, too, are not permitted freedom, the most basic of rights. Whether or not this law of yours is perfect, and it does not seem to be so, mortals are the ones enacting it. Mortals are always fallible.”

Aveline bristled at that, and Anders fought off a grin as he looked back. Justice was apparently very good at getting under her skin. He was beginning to wish Fenris had come. Or even Sebastian. Justice arguing either of them into submission was far too entertaining a notion to pass up.

“We ‘mortals’ make mistakes, I know. But without the law, we’d have chaos. Everyone would do whatever they wanted. It’d be a bloodbath.” The Guard-Captain was clearly running out of arguments if she was bringing up ‘anarchy is bad’ as a counterpoint, Anders thought.

“I am not suggesting that. I am suggesting removing the failures of the law, changing it for the good of all. Eliminating the corruption festering within the ranks of your guard and courts.”

Aveline chuckled bitterly. “Believe me, spirit, if it were that simple, I would’ve done it long ago. Corruption is a persistent poison, and I’ve been fighting it since I joined the guard. Besides, who decides what is and isn’t a failure in the law? You and Anders wish mages to be as free as anyone else. Others don’t. Who’s right?”

“We are.” Justice declared, with no hesitation. “It is unjust to deprive someone of their freedom when they have done no wrong.”

“But perfectly innocent mages can turn to demons and blood magic at any time. All it takes is a good enough reason, and they give in and often slaughter many innocent people before they’re stopped.”

“How does that differ from anyone else? I have seen the evil of demons, yes, but mages are not the only ones who can be possessed. And it does not take a demon for great evil to occur. Magic and demons are not the only weapons in this world.”

“Mages have options the rest of us don’t. And when was the last time we saw an abomination that hadn’t been a mage?” Aveline asked, clearly unaware that mages were not the only targets of demons.

“We have no way of knowing once the person has become one. I admit, mages are the most common targets, but demons are the evil we must fight against, not their prey.”

Aveline opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted when an arrow whizzed by. Anders looked forward to see bandits ahead, and his chest tightened. Here they were, him and Justice, fighting separately for the first time in years. Anders was nervous, even though he knew he shouldn’t be. They’d been separate before they’d met for much longer than they’d spent together, but it still worried him. Being together had felt… natural once they were used to it. Going back to the way things were before, or something close to it, still felt unusual and wrong. It had been days, and that hadn’t changed a bit.

Justice charged, Aveline on his heels, and Hawke leapt forth. Anders started with ice, freezing the enemy in front of Justice in place just in time for the spirit to shatter them in one blow. Damn. Clearly Justice hadn’t lost any of his strength. Anders ignored that observation, and focused on sending forth more magic. He found himself gravitating towards Justice’s targets, the two of them working together as seamlessly as they always had, while Aveline and Hawke worked together on other enemies. The rhythm just felt right, Anders hitting them with a spell just as Justice struck, steel and magic working as well together as man and spirit.

The mage swore he could almost feel it, feel _Justice_ again, not in the same way as when they were merged, of course not, but as some connection left lingering between them, stronger than earlier. They were in perfect sync, as they often were in battles before their separation. It was purely instinctual, as natural as breathing, as if they’d done this all their lives. It was strangely intimate, and as the fight came to an end, the feeling fading, Anders wished it would’ve lasted longer.

But it was over now. Hawke was looting the bodies, and the feeling was gone, the aching in his chest all the more noticeable now. Aveline looked out, watching for more, and Justice approached Anders with a strange, troubled expression.

“I felt it too, Justice.” Anders said, voice just a bit on the quiet side.

The spirit nodded, then tilted his head. “I suspect there is something remaining of our connection to one another.”

“I think so, too.” Anders looked away, towards the sea, thinking. “I’m not sure what that means.”

“Neither am I.” Justice replied. “I am uncertain there is any way to know for sure.”

Anders met his gaze again, the spirit’s words sounding sad enough that there was a moment of hesitation where the mage almost reached out to touch him. “We’ll look into it. There’s still too much we don’t know. If there is still a connection… Well, we’ll see what we find out.”

Justice nodded again, and then Hawke was calling to them to get moving. After a moment’s hesitation, Anders started walking again with Justice close behind. It wasn’t long before the party happened upon a path leading up and to the right, and Anders was grateful, considering Justice had started up his conversation with Aveline again. The debate had devolved into the usual pro-mage anti-mage arguments Anders knew all too well, so he’d tuned out the rest of it. As much as he usually would’ve jumped at the chance, Justice knew the arguments as well as he did, and whenever he opened his mouth to join in, the spirit would say almost exactly what he would’ve. That was the point when Anders gave up on contributing, though he couldn’t help but smile to himself as Justice spoke the very same arguments he wanted to. It was nice to have someone who agreed with him, thought the same way he did, down to the smallest detail.

As they followed the winding trail up the mountain, Justice suddenly stopped, standing with his head cocked, focusing on something. Aveline stopped as well, looking at the spirit with confusion. Anders halted too, and Hawke followed immediately after.

“What’s wrong?” Anders asked, stepping closer to Justice.

“I can feel something ahead. Something evil and unjust.” He said, brow crinkled in concentration. “A demon. Shades. We must kill them.”

With that, Justice drew his sword and began moving ahead without waiting for a response from any of them. Hawke looked at Aveline and shrugged while Anders pulled his staff from his back, following the spirit. If Justice could sense demons and similar enemies, well, that would certainly come in handy.

Sure enough, Anders crested the hill to find Justice cutting down a shade as more approached. An abomination followed the group, and Anders hit it with a blast of ice to keep it out of the way while they dealt with the shades. Hawke and Aveline arrived moments later, joining in the fray and keeping the pair from being overwhelmed. The group of enemies was small, and was dispatched quickly, before the feeling of connection could resurface again.

Anders wiped the sweat from his brow, and then glanced around to notice a number of Qunari bodies among the carnage. It was a curious sight, and Hawke must have noticed as well, as she remarked on it.

“I guess that explains what happened to that Qunari patrol. I’ll have to let them know when I get back.” She said, mostly to herself, though Anders, obviously, had missed whatever conversation had led her to be aware of the patrol.

A few moments of lingering and the party was moving into the cave, wary of the hunters they’d no doubt find within. As they travelled the twisting caverns, sure enough, a few groups of enemies were found along the way and defeated without a problem. The discussion had also not resumed this time, Justice seeming to be too focused on searching for the bounty hunters and their apostate captive.

The group turned a corner, and the cavern opened up, revealing what appeared to be the hunters’ base of operations. Anders scanned the area quickly, and noticed the frightened-looking woman dressed in robes at the top of the stairs. The healer gestured silently to the others, earning a nod from Hawke. The apostate was still here then, which meant they’d come in time. Justice was already moving forward, sword ready, and the others followed, knowing this fight wouldn’t be as easy as the earlier thugs.

Sure enough, there were a number of hunters here, as well as what appeared to be assassins for hire, and the commander of the hunters. Justice went straight for the commander, Anders attempting to back him up as Aveline worked on crowd control and Hawke focused on the assassins. Anders knew it wasn’t more than they could handle, but there was still a flicker of worry in his mind as he sent forth a shock of ice.

As the battle progressed, the feeling of connection resurfaced, and Anders chased it hungrily as he chipped away at the commander’s defences. He could feel Justice again, could feel the ghost of strain in his arm as Justice swung his sword. A brief, glowing glance backwards showed that Justice felt it too, and, for a moment, Anders almost wished the battle would never end, wished he could feel this forever. It wasn’t what they had before, but Maker, it was so much better than what they had now. Their minds and bodies were in perfect sync, working together as one, the barest hint of the other’s intentions and feelings managing to just barely make it over the barrier that now separated them.

It was beautiful, and it wasn’t until Anders felt a sharp pain in his arm that his focus broke, punctuated coincidentally by an enraged cry from Justice. He turned, expecting to see someone there, but his gaze found only empty air. No arrow, no blood, nothing.

 _What?_ That didn’t make any sense. The mage glanced back at Justice, sending forth another blast of magic and trying to ignore the sharp sting that apparently had no cause. But looking at the spirit answered his question. Justice had been wounded, not him, and in this state, with their connection apparently stronger than before, Anders could feel the pain Justice no doubt felt as well. How was this even possible? The stain of blood on Justices sleeve was also concerning, showing that he apparently did bleed. What that meant, Anders did not know, and he refused to think about it until the battle was done. Right now, he needed to focus on keeping Justice from getting hit again.

The commander didn’t last much longer, and Anders searched for another target, finding the exact same one as Justice did at the exact same moment, the two cutting down the lesser hunters quickly. Aveline and Hawke had taken out most of the rest, and the remaining clean-up was simple enough.

As the enemies fell, Anders could already feel the fragments of the connection fading, the pain in his arm dulling. He didn’t want it to stop, ever, and a strangled noise of frustration escaped his throat as he threw out a spell far more powerful than what he needed to take out the last hunter. He’d known it wouldn’t last, it hadn’t lasted before, but the healer was still distressed. This feeling was exactly what he wanted back, what he missed so much, and the sharp ache in his chest that replaced it only hurt more after having a taunting taste of more.

Vaguely, Anders registered Hawke talking to the apostate they’d rescued, telling her she was free to go, and offering help if she didn’t have a plan yet. She did, it seemed, as she ran off moments later, thanking Hawke for the help. Anders then found himself checking on the others without even thinking about it. Justice had a deep cut in his arm, though it didn’t seem to bother him much. Hawke was breathing heavy and drenched in sweat, but seemed fine, and Aveline was much in the same condition.

Automatically, he made his way over to Justice. Anders wasn’t even sure he could heal the spirit, if his magic would actually work. Why did Justice even bleed? His body wasn’t mortal. Was it? There were too many questions, and after the emotional turbulence of feeling the connection flare, having it drop again, and then the process of it all repeating, Anders was in no condition to figure it out. He’d fix the wound, if he could, then figure the rest out later. Maker, he really hoped he could get his hands on those books soon. Hopefully they could answer some questions on all of this.

“Are you alright?” Anders asked, voice tenser than he intended, when Justice looked up at him.

“I am fine, Anders. The wound is minor. You need not worry.” The spirit replied immediately.

“Still. Let me try to heal it. We don’t even know how your body works. We can’t let you leave an injury be when it could get worse.” Anders took a step closer as he spoke, taking a deep breath as he realized he felt anxious, though he wasn’t sure exactly why.

Justice seemed to consider for a moment before nodding his assent. Anders gently started poking around the slash in Justice’s coat, peeling back the blood-soaked fabric to see the actual injury. Being this close to Justice, touching him, certainly wasn’t helping his concentration. The contact still had the same effect as before, and the healer had to work hard to ignore how nice it felt, trying to focus on the task at hand instead. The wound wasn’t too deep, but still needed to be taken care of, so Anders pulled on his mana, bringing the healing magic forth and infusing it into Justice. After a moment of concern, Anders watched as Justice’s skin began to mend, knitting itself together under guidance from Anders’ mind. So it worked. That was good. Anders hadn’t known what he would’ve done if Justice couldn’t be healed.

It wasn’t a tough injury to deal with, so it wasn’t long before it was closed completely. “There. It seems my magic does work. Still, we’re going to need to get you some armour soon. And a shield. You can’t fight in that coat forever.”

Justice looked down, as if only just now realizing he was still wearing Anders’ coat. “Yes, that would be ideal. But I do not believe armour to be a priority. We are still unsure of our own situation, and we have many other tasks to attend to.”

“Yes, I know. I felt… I could feel your pain during the fight. Not after, even though you were still hurt, just during the battle.” Anders confessed, and Justice looked at him with wide, glowing eyes. “I’m sure it’s the connection again, but why would it only show up while we’re fighting?”

“I do not know. Perhaps it can be triggered by other events as well, and we simply have not discovered what those are yet.” Justice said, looking troubled. “I did not realize you could feel my pain. I could feel you, like what happened outside earlier, but nothing more.”

Anders frowned, but remained silent. He’d thought time and learning the specifics of their situation would make things simpler, but they certainly did not seem simpler now. There was something remaining of their connection, but they didn’t know how much, or even what could trigger it outside of battle. Perhaps it could even be changed somehow. If they tried, could they strengthen it? Or could they accidentally shatter it entirely? What would either of those things mean? Could they perhaps even rejoin? Become one again? If it were possible–

Hawke managed to get Anders’ attention then, switching his focus. It was time to head back to Kirkwall, it seemed. They’d rescued the apostate and killed the hunters. Mistress Selby would have to be informed, but that was simple enough for either Hawke or Anders to do. The mage continued to contemplate as they walked the path along the coast and back to the city, wondering just what other surprises were in store for him and Justice.

They arrived back at his clinic without incident, Aveline heading off beforehand. Justice seemed relieved to be able to pull the hood of his cloak down again, and he busied himself depositing it back in the chest it’d come from. Anders, meanwhile, was about to bid Hawke goodnight when she spoke first.

“Well, I’m going to head off. Tell Mistress Selby it’s done and all that.” She said, interrupted by a yawn. “It’s been a long day.”

“It sure has.” Anders agreed. “Goodnight, Hawke. Be careful on the walk home.”

The rogue then turned to leave, but suddenly remembered something. “Oh! I meant to tell you earlier, but I got distracted. Varric wanted me to tell you to make sure you come to Wicked Grace next time. He says the books should be in by then, and wants you to come pick them up.”

Anders suppressed a groan. He wasn’t sure he really had time for that, but he agreed anyways, causing Hawke to smile and head out for the night. He could barely make time for cards on a good day, let alone right now. But perhaps it would actually be a good idea, giving him a night to relax and try to forget about the emotional turmoil of the last few days. Besides, he needed those books, and if hanging around playing cards was the price, well, there were certainly worse prices to pay for something he could hardly wait for. Provided he didn’t want to rush back immediately to start on the translation, of course.

With his plans for a night in the near future now decided, Anders resigned himself to finishing up what he needed to do in the clinic for the night before collapsing into bed. Justice tried to help as much as he could, and then sat down for another night of reading, looking troubled the entire time. Anders, too, continued to think on what had happened out on the coast, the ghost of connection they could feel. It must have meant something, and hopefully the books would be able to help. He continued to turn the ideas around in his mind as he slipped off to sleep, the ups and downs of the day apparently being enough for him to find rest far quicker than usual.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, I thought I'd be able to update faster now that I've finished OPAJ, but apparently that didn't happen lmao. I'd been waiting to do this one for so long, and then it ended up just fighting me at every step. But hey, it's done now, so that hopefully counts for something ^^

There was no more denying it: Anders had to leave the clinic. He was running out of healing supplies, and he hadn’t been to any of the dead drops for the Underground since before the separation had happened. He considered bringing Justice with him, but given that he was already going to be engaging in dangerous, illegal activities that required being inconspicuous, bringing along a glowing spirit in a suspicious looking cloak who had no concept of the word ‘stealth’ would be the opposite of a good idea. The healer was worried though; they hadn’t been apart yet, and he didn’t know what effect physical distance may have on them.

But it couldn’t be helped. Justice had understood why he couldn’t come along, though Anders suspected he was a little disappointed. The mage could remember when they’d shared a body, and how being stagnant for too long could make Justice frustrated. And now, there wasn’t much he could do, save come along for a few of Hawke’s errands, and it was probably driving him up the wall. For the moment, though, Anders didn’t know what else they could do, no matter how unfortunate the situation was. They were stuck like this.

Being away from Justice, just temporarily, was also something that simply needed to happen. The idea of never being able to be away from another being, even one he’d been so intimately tied to before, was inconvenient, and perhaps a bit frightening. He didn’t like having that level of dependence on anyone. And they couldn’t simply remain in the same place forever. It simply wasn’t feasible. Besides, it was best to figure out what, if anything, might happen now rather than later, when the situation could be far more dire. The necessity was undeniable.

Anders bid Justice farewell, leaving the clinic with a twinge of nervousness twisting in his gut. What he was nervous about, the mage didn’t rightly know, but that didn’t help. He only had two stops to make: one to Lirene for the supplies she tried her best to gather for him and one to the dead drop with the Mage Underground that was hidden among the chaos of the docks. It shouldn’t take long, and Anders kept reminding himself of that as he made his way through the confines of Darktown.

The healer was already in Lowtown, trying to appear inconspicuous as he moved through the crowds, constantly watching for Templars, when he noticed his feeling of unease was getting worse. His stomach was twisting itself nearly to the point of pain, his palms were beginning to sweat, and the ache in his chest was throbbing painfully. Worse yet, Anders could not identify the cause of it. Sure, he was nervous, unsure what being physically apart would mean for him and Justice. He was also worried about the spirit, but that was a more general fear that he was becoming increasingly used to bearing. The rest of his stresses weren’t exactly new, certainly feelings he’d had before leaving Darktown. And yet every step seemed to bring him closer to true distress. Could it be that physical separation did, in fact, provoke a physical response? Or had he just worked himself up so much that he’d convinced himself it would?

Anders shook his head, trying to clear his mind and ignore the shaking in his hands as he approached Lirene’s shop, forcing himself to open the door. Two stops, one of which was nearly done. He could do this. He’d faced far worse before and survived. He could handle a small ache and some panic.

He hadn’t really paid much attention to the conversation with Lirene, being present only enough to manage the simplest of pleasantries as he wondered if Justice was experiencing the same reaction he was. Oh Maker, that would not be good. The spirit wasn’t particularly good with distress at the best of times. And if Anders wasn’t there to help? Shit.

“Here you go, messere.” Lirene handing Anders the supplies brought him temporarily back to reality. “Please try to take better care of yourself. You’re beginning to look awfully pale.”

“Thank you, Lirene.” Anders offered her a weak smile. “I’ll try to.”

And with that, he turned to go, probably too quickly, gripping the sack of supplies tightly in an attempt to steady himself. Grabbing them first had been on purpose; no one looked twice at someone carrying a bag of belongings near the docks. Now, however, Anders found himself clutching it tightly, trying to regain some semblance of control over his galloping heartbeat.

The journey to the docks only made things worse. It seemed the farther he went, the more severe his discomfort became. Every step seemed to require all of his concentration, and Anders noticed he was gritting his teeth. When he finally made it down the steps to the docks proper, the mage paused, placing a hand against his chest in an attempt to stem the sharp, throbbing pain that was making it hard to breathe. It didn’t help.

 _Fuck_. It was the only word he could think. And even as his discomfort worsened, Anders couldn’t help but worry about what Justice might be going through back in the clinic. The spirit had so little experience with negative feelings, every instance Anders experienced being enough to cause Justice to panic when they were merged, and Anders doubted he was handling it well. Justice, his _friend_ , was alone right now, suffering just as he was, and there was nothing Anders could do but hurry. Justice would not want him to shirk his duties to other mages simply for their benefit. That would be unjust.

So Anders continued, fighting with his own pain and panic, as well as his fear for his friend. He forced himself not to hurry, not to look suspicious. It was hard to look casual when all he wanted to do was double over, take a moment to breathe, and get the hell out of here, but he had to act calm. As he turned to the darkened alley where the dead drop was located, the mage couldn’t resist leaning against the cold, stone wall for a moment to collect himself. He was so close now.

Once his breathing was a touch less ragged, Anders looked around, ensuring he wasn’t being watched, then went for the hidden dead drop. There was so much junk and garbage here that another small crate didn’t attract any notice, and there was no one willing to spend the coin to clean the area up. He glanced around once more, before reaching in and grabbing the bundle of envelopes. One surely contained the coded instructions for the new cypher, as they traded them out frequently just in case, while the rest was correspondence and evidence he’d have to decode in order to read. Business as per usual, save perhaps a slightly heavier load given how preoccupied he’d been as of late.

Once the envelopes were safely stuffed in his pockets, Anders waited a bit longer, looking for anything unusual or someone who’d stuck around for too long, and then immediately headed back. It was hard not to rush, not to move as quickly as he could for both his own and Justice’s sake, but he was carrying sensitive documents. As one of the best in the Underground, he knew everything they did, and if anyone managed to read these messages, it could compromise the whole organization.

However, as the blonde made his way back to Lowtown, he noticed the discomfort easing. The crushing pain in his chest no longer constricting his lungs and stealing his air, and his heart was beating at a more reasonable pace. That pretty much confirmed it; physical distance did have an effect. What that meant, however, was not comforting, and Anders shook his head, intent on focusing on getting back. The implications could be dealt with once he was sure Justice was okay.

The rest of Lowtown and Darktown went by in a flash, Anders following his path back to the clinic automatically as his mind raced with possibilities. What if Justice wasn’t even there? What if he’d been so upset that he went out to find Anders and was now wandering through Kirkwall without knowing where he’d gone? Maker, what if the Templars got their hands on him somehow? Could they have even pulled that off? Anders didn’t know, but he noticed his pace was increasing the closer he got to the clinic, nearly running by the time the doors were in sight.

Anders stepped through the door carefully, making sure to close it behind him and looked around. The immediate area of the clinic didn’t look any different, and the mage took cautious steps forward. What was he even afraid of? Justice wouldn’t harm him. The pain from before was also almost entirely gone, reduced to a manageable level, yet he still couldn’t bring himself to relax.

It wasn’t until he got closer to his personal area that he noticed something amiss. There were books scattered all over, spilling out from behind the thin divider. Some were open and face down, with pages bent or curled oddly against the floor, indicating that they hadn’t been placed there carefully, but had likely been thrown aside. Anders dropped the sack of supplies unceremoniously on the ground and then hurried forward and around the barrier.

The trail of discarded books led to the desk, which had been cleared in a hurry. Papers and other items he kept there had also been knocked over, some of which were now lying on the ground. A puddle of ink flowed onto the floor from Anders’ inkwell, and the mage was briefly grateful his was made from stone and not something more fragile. There were also scratches in the desk; eight in total, separated into two groups of four, as if someone had scratched hard enough with their nails to leave deep marks in the wood. Anders, somewhat in shock, then looked over to the corner near his cot.

There was where he found Justice. The spirit was curled in on himself, almost completely still, eyes screwed shut. Anders could all too easily envision what had happened here, and his heart broke. Being apart had been too much, and Justice had needed support. Support Anders hadn’t been able to give him.

“Justice.” The mage said softly. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m back.”

The spirit looked up, eyes wide and frightened for just a moment, before Justice made a poor attempt to compose himself. “Anders, I… I am sorry.”

Anders moved closer, kneeling down next to Justice. “Shh, it’s okay, I understand. I felt it too. You don’t need to apologize. This is my fault. I'm sorry, Justice, I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

Justice’s expression shifted, and Maker, he looked so horribly vulnerable that Anders' heart ached. “You needed to. We cannot abandon our work simply because of our situation.”

The healer pursed his lips. He knew Justice would say that, and Anders knew he was right, but it was completely at odds with the emotions he could somehow sense radiating off of the spirit. Without saying anything more, he inched closer, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on Justice’s shoulder.

The spirit twitched, not expecting the contact, but relaxed a moment later when the cool relief Anders felt as well washed through him. After a few moments of silence, neither seeming to know what to say, Anders moved to sit beside Justice while maintaining physical constant the entire time. The mage slid his arm across Justice’s shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze that seemed to be enough to convince the spirit to relax further and lean against him.

They sat quietly for a while longer, Anders relishing in the moment as much as he knew Justice was. Being apart hadn’t been easy on him, either, but at least he had some semblance of how to deal with distress. Justice didn’t have that, and he’d been completely alone, likely not even sure what was happening to him or what he was feeling. Anders could only imagine how awful it must have been, especially because of the way Justice’s body was unusually soft and relaxed. The spirit had leaned in further, resting his head against Anders’ chest, his eyes slipping closed when Anders had shifted his grip to around Justice’s waist and started gently stroking the spirit's side.

After a time, once he thought Justice had recovered enough to discuss the details, Anders broke the silence. “It seems we really can’t be too far apart.”

Justice hummed in deliberation, and Anders felt it more than heard it. “Indeed. I am uncertain if my… reaction would have been different had I known what would occur, but this is still troubling.”

“Agreed.” Anders paused, staring at the thin dividers he called walls. “I didn’t fare much better, truthfully. And I’d rather not repeat this if we can avoid it.”

The spirit shifted to look up at Anders’ face. “You experienced similar distress? Anders, I am sorry. It was selfish of me not to ask.”

“No, Justice, it’s fine. I can handle it better than you can.” He gave a wry smile. “A lifetime of mortal emotions will do that to you.”

“I suppose you are right, but I… I still wish I could have provided assistance to you as I did before.” Justice said sadly.

Anders shifted as well, bringing Justice’s burning gaze to meet his own. “Justice, listen. There are things you have trouble with, and that’s alright. Remember in Amaranthine? Our talks? You’re not going to understand or be able to handle everything immediately. I’ve had my entire life to learn these things. You’ve had a few years compared to the literal eternity of your life. You don’t need to feel bad about needing my help. And when I need your help, I will tell you, okay?”

Justice watched him, unblinking, and then nodded. “I understand. And you have my word: I will assist you in any way I can.”

Anders felt his lips twist into a small, true smile. “I know you will. You know me better than anyone, Justice.”

When no response came, and Justice simply settled himself back against Anders’ chest, the mage realized that this probably would be a good time to extract himself. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It was too nice, too pleasant after everything that had happened that day, and within the last few weeks. A simple touch, contact with someone he cared for more than he could admit was too much for him to let go.

And that’s when he remembered something important. “Hey, Justice. I’m expected to play Wicked Grace with Hawke and everyone tomorrow night. Apparently the books I asked for should’ve arrived, and Varric will give them to me then.”

The spirit tensed almost imperceptibly, likely expecting to hear that they’d have to do this again as soon as the following day, but Anders continued. “I was thinking… Did you want to come with me?”

“You want me to accompany you to this?” Justice asked, obviously perplexed and making Anders wonder if it had been a good idea to ask or not.

“I, uh, yes? The books Varric got are for _us_ , after all, and after today…” Anders paused, flushing slightly and licking his lips as he thought through what he was going to say. “Well, I don’t think we want to repeat it. Besides, if you’re up for it, it’d be a good idea to formally introduce you to everyone. Let you explore more about this world.”

Justice seemed to consider it for a moment. “I suppose… It seems a waste of time that could be spent on better things, but if you would like me there, I will accompany you.”

The healer tried to ignore both how relieved he was to hear that, and the sudden thoughts of all the ways it could go wrong. “Perfect, then. We’ll both go tomorrow.”

“Indeed.” Justice said simply. “Let us hope these books provide us with something helpful.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” Anders responded, and oh Maker, did he ever mean it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you don't already know, I'm on tumblr as well under the same username (apostaterevolutionary.tumblr.com) and you're always welcome to come visit me there if you like ^^


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for taking so long with this!
> 
> Between writer’s block, the holidays, and some personal bullshit, I just did not have the ability to actually get any work done on this fic. On the bright side, my block appears to be gone and I’ve even got a bunch done for the next few chapters (12 is fully written, and the ones between here and there are partially done; I just need to replay/watch some sections), so hopefully updates will be quicker for at least a little while. But anyways! Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait and doesn't disappoint ^^

The pair made their way to the Hanged Man, and Anders was pretty sure they were both equally nervous about this. Bringing Justice along was the ideal solution; no ill effects due to physical distance, Justice could get used to the others and vice versa, and, truth be told, Anders was happy to have him along. As he’d discovered on the coast, it was nice to have someone around who actually understood. Someone who was on his side, truly, when most of the others dismissed him and his beliefs. Someone who supported him.

But the clear benefits weren’t necessarily helpful in calming Anders’ fears. Many of their so-called friends weren’t exactly nice to him, especially when it came to Justice. He knew there would be tension, and that there was a chance things could get heated. He and Fenris, especially, were often one slight lapse in self-control from starting a brawl some days, and Justice wasn’t really known for his restraint in such situations. And who knows how the others he hadn’t met yet would react?

When they reached Varric’s suite, where he had a private table, Anders noticed everyone else had already arrived. Well, everyone except Sebastian, but he frequently had praying or bothering the poor for donations or whatever it was he did every day to attend to, and Anders wasn’t exactly upset by him not being present. The mage took the empty seat next to Varric, who sat at the head of the table, and across from Hawke, who smiled encouragingly. Justice looked unsure for a moment, before taking the seat next to Anders, with Merrill on the other side. The elf gave Justice a friendly greeting, and the spirit returned it as he pulled the hood of his cloak down.

“Glad you, uh, two could make it Blondie.” Varric said, suggesting he wasn’t expecting both of them to come.

“Well, I need those books. But it is nice to get out once in a while.” Anders said lightly.

Fenris, who had been scowling at Justice from the far corner of the table since they’d walked in, then opened his mouth to speak and Anders suppressed a groan. “I see you brought your pet demon along.”

“I am no demon!” Justice declared, standing suddenly, the cracks in his skin flashing brightly for a moment.

“Don’t demons usually, you know, attack us? Or something?” Isabela added from her seat next to Hawke, looking actually thoughtful. “He doesn’t seem very demon-y to me.”

Justice looked at her with what seemed to be surprised approval, and Anders pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be a long night.

“I am Justice. A spirit. I only attack those perpetrating injustices.” He said, showing more restraint than Anders thought he could, before sitting down again.

“See? He’s fiiiine.” Isabela continued, “Right, Aveline? You met him before.”

Aveline looked surprised, not expecting to be addressed. “I did, yes. We had some disagreements, but he seems to mean well.”

Anders was starting to get offended by everyone talking about Justice as if he wasn’t there, but the spirit didn’t seem to mind. He probably didn’t even realize it was rude. And, truthfully, Justice was likely still a little overwhelmed by interacting with so many people at once, and may have even been thankful for the brief moment to get accustomed to the situation.

“That settles it, then.” Varric said, theatrically as always. “If Aveline says someone is safe, they’re safe.”

Fenris grumbled, but took a large gulp from his mug instead of protesting any further as Varric started dealing cards. The dwarf hesitated when he came to Justice though, unsure whether the spirit would want to play or not.

Justice looked at Anders, giving an expression that said he was uninterested. “He doesn’t want to play.”

Varric nodded and continued dealing, while Justice looked on with mild curiosity. Anders assessed his not-terrible-but-also-not-great hand and idly wondered if he might be better at cards without Justice’s blunt honesty in his mind. The spirit was completely incapable of lying, and Anders had been quite good at cards before they’d merged. Perhaps his luck would change tonight.

The first round went by uneventfully, but on the second, right after Isabela’s bet, Justice tilted his head. Anders didn’t know what had caught his attention, but he’d known the spirit long enough to understand that he had noticed something.

“You are lying.” Justice said, matter-of-factly, to Isabela.

The pirate looked at him with disbelief, and didn’t get the chance to speak before Varric chuckled and threw a few more coins into the pot. “Looks like you’ve been caught in your bluff, Rivaini.”

Fenris sat up stalk-straight and Isabela cried out in protest. “Hey, no fair! No supernatural help!”

Justice looked a little put off, and Fenris then cut in. “So you can read minds? I knew it! You are a demon.”

“I am not!” Justice shouted, a bit too loudly, before Anders could soothe him.

Maker, this was a nightmare.

“Only demons exploit the thoughts of mortals.” Fenris replied, as if he were quoting something.

“I am not exploiting anything. I can only detect deception, not read your every idle thought. Nor would I want to.” Justice said indignantly.

Fenris squinted, and at that point Anders began to suspect that this wasn’t just the elf’s general wariness around spirits and magic and demons. It seemed to be that concern soaked in a good dose of wine, which was certainly not helping the situation. The mage may not have liked Fenris, but he still didn’t want this to end in a fight for everyone’s sake.

“Oh, well, if that’s all.” The elf continued sarcastically, “Why don’t we invite Merrill’s demon next time, see how much you two really have in common?”

Justice glanced at Merrill accusingly, as if just remembering she was a blood mage, but then turned back to the increasingly hostile elf.

“The only thing we would have in common is having come from the Fade.” Justice declared. “That, and being far stronger than you fragile mortals.”

Fenris stood, slamming his hands on the table, and that’s when Hawke finally joined in. “Hey, let’s calm down, everyone, shall we? Fenris, he’s fine, you don’t need to worry. If he really was a demon, he’d be controlling you and you wouldn’t be so suspicious around him.”

Fenris contemplated that for a moment, and then sat with a resigned expression as Hawke continued. “And Justice, please forgive him. Fenris has a bad history with demons and blood magic. He’s learned to never be too careful.”

Justice let that sink in for a moment, and then nodded. “I understand. Demons are beings of evil. Vigilance around any of their kind is best, even if I am not one.”

Anders finally relaxed, letting out a breath. Justice looked at him with an anxious expression, and the mage gave him an encouraging smile. That had been exactly the kind of argument he’d been worried about, but nothing bad had happened. Hawke was ever the peacekeeper, and it was certainly a blessing tonight. And, on the bright side, it seemed everyone but Fenris was at least somewhat accepting of Justice. Isabela may not have appreciated having her bluff advertised, but Anders knew she wasn’t truly angry.

The game continued, and Anders made sure to explain to Justice that announcing when people were bluffing to the entire table was not something he should do. It was just a game, and the lies were part of it. Idle conversation had started up again, though it was pointedly not about the spirit sitting awkwardly at the table. Or mages, or anything similar. As much as they were mostly accepting, it was clear there was an underlying fear of setting Justice off.

The game ended with Anders keeping a noticeable amount more of his coin than he usually did. He didn’t win, by any stretch, and he knew they dropped the prices whenever he was present for his sake, but losing less was an improvement. It wasn’t a big silver lining, but a positive result after their separation was something. It was the first one he’d actually managed to find so far.

“So Anders,” Isabela said, leaning forward with one hand under her chin. “Tell me. Is he identical to you in _every_ way? Except the glowing, obviously.”

Anders blinked, not expecting such a question, and not really understanding where she was going with this. “What do you mean? He can’t use magic like I can, but he has his own skills.”

“I mean his body. Is it really the same _everywhere?_ ” She asked, raising one eyebrow suggestively.

Anders gave an exasperated sigh, one that was mirrored by Aveline across the table as she apparently also figured out what Isabela meant, before trying to mask some of his annoyance. “Really? Of all the questions you could ask, that’s the one you pick?”

“It’s a valid question.” The pirate continued, “Because if so, that could certainly be interesting. I have fond memories of some of your… body parts.”

Hawke slapped her forehead, but didn’t get involved. Her and Isabela had… something going on, but the details of that were something Anders wasn’t privy to. Although, regardless of the details, trying to get Isabela not to flirt with her friends was like trying to get clouds not to rain. It was just something that happened.

“Anders, what is she referring to?” Justice asked, confused.

Oh Maker, this was getting worse by the moment. “Ah, it’s nothing, Justice. Nothing that matters, anyways.”

“I would beg to differ.” The pirate was wearing that predatory smirk of hers now; Anders was pretty sure half the reason she flirted like that was simply because she enjoyed flustering people. “It could be interesting for you, too, you know. I bet he knows that body just as well as you do.”

Anders nearly choked on his own spit and felt his cheeks heat up, hoping beyond hope that the low light of the bar concealed it. Fuck, she didn’t know the half of it. Memories of that one night came flooding back, and it became increasingly difficult to ignore the knowledge that Justice did indeed know his body far better than Anders had ever thought possible. And as much as he didn’t want to think about it, he definitely didn’t want Isabela thinking of it more.

“You are talking about sexual activities.” Justice said, as if he’d just discovered something of note.

“Yes, she is.” Anders said quickly, before Isabela could say anything more. “Because her mind is filthy.”

Justice looked at Anders, likely going to ask for an explanation, but Isabela spoke first. “Come on! I can’t have been the only one thinking it!”

“You definitely were.” Aveline chimed in, with noises of agreement coming from everyone else at the table.

“Augh! You guys are no fun.” Isabela threw her hands into the air in exasperation. “Fine, fine, I’ll keep my fantasies limited to people who don’t glow in the dark.”

Fenris opened his mouth to say something, but apparently thought better of it. For once, Anders thought he’d made the smart choice. Justice, on the other hand, just looked even more perplexed, this conversation clearly having gone completely over his head.

“Don’t worry about it, Justice.” Anders said, waving his hand dismissively in Isabela’s direction. “That’s just how she is.”

Justice settled back in his seat, still looking confused, but he didn’t seem as concerned about it. Varric used the temporary lull in conversation to suggest another game, to which everyone but Aveline agreed. The Guard-Captain said it was late enough already, and headed out with a quick farewell.

The rest of the night went a bit more smoothly. Merrill tried to talk to Justice some more, but it seemed remembering she worked with a demon had soured his opinion of her, given that his answers were shorter and even more direct than before. Anders couldn’t blame him for that, considering he felt the same, but the spirit did perk up when she started talking about his purpose and the finer points of justice; that always got him going, and it seemed she knew that. Perhaps the fences could still be mended there, for better or worse.

Beyond that, nothing of note came up again. Fenris was nearly silent the entire time, apparently still annoyed that Justice was there, but not enough to actually say anything about it after Hawke had shut him down. Hawke, to her credit, put forth the most effort, aside from Anders, to keep Justice included, though it did seem the spirit was mostly content to watch their interactions without actually participating in conversation.

By the time the game had ended – shit, it was far later than Anders had been hoping, though he should’ve known better – the mage had completely forgotten he’d come for a secondary reason. He was on his way out when Varric got his attention.

“Hey, Blondie, don’t forget what you came for.” He called.

It took Anders a moment to remember the books. “Oh, right. Sorry, it’s late. And thank you again for this, Varric.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The dwarf gave a dismissive hand wave, then picked up three massive volumes from the table. “Three volumes, all written by some guy in ancient Tevinter or something. Honestly, I don’t know if any of it will be helpful, but my contact said these were the only ones out there that might be.”

Anders looked them over as Varric handed them to him, not even recognizing the title save that it was indeed in Old Tevene. “I have no idea either, but I have to try.”

Varric simply nodded, then bade him farewell and good luck. Anders, and Justice, who had waited by the exit, then left for the clinic. The mage had been hoping to find time for some more work tonight, but that wasn’t going to happen with how tired he was. He felt like he’d been neglecting everything important ever since The Incident, and he couldn’t allow himself to use that as an excuse. He had a duty to so many, to his patients and to other mages, and he couldn’t let personal circumstances get in the way of that, no matter how much easier it would be if he did.

Justice was quiet on the way back, seeming deep in thought. Once they’d made it to the clinic, Anders decided it was time to check in on him. The night hadn’t been as stressful as Anders had feared it would be, but that didn’t mean Justice felt the same. He knew the spirit was easily overwhelmed by any outside stimulus.

“Hey, everything alright?” Anders asked.

Justice looked up, his thoughts interrupted. “Yes, all is well. Why do you ask?”

“Tonight was different. For both of us, but mostly for you.” Anders explained, “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

Justice hummed in thought. “It was… enlightening. I have always enjoyed watching the interactions of mortals, as you know. This was a different dynamic than what I saw at Vigil’s Keep.”

“I see.” Anders replied, though he had been expecting a different answer from the spirit. “So you’re fine with everything that happened?”

“I did not appreciate being called a demon, if that is what you are referring to.” Justice said, still sounding a bit indignant over the whole thing. “But I do realize that most of your kind do not understand my kind or my world. It is not unwise to treat me with caution.”

Anders hadn’t been expecting such a pragmatic answer. “That’s very… mature of you.”

“I remember your distaste for that elf.” Justice continued thoughtfully, “If I did not share it before, I believe I do now.”

Anders couldn’t help but snicker. “Well, we can put that on the long list of things we agree on, then.”

Justice seemed to have nothing more to say, so Anders moved to put the books from Varric on his desk. Work on the translation would have to wait until morning; the mage was far too exhausted to try now. But he did feel better having some glimmer of hope. He knew, logically, that the translation would take a while, and that there could be nothing in there that was helpful at all, but he couldn’t help a touch of optimism.

Anders ran one hand over the cover of the first volume, a motion Justice did not miss.

“Do you truly believe these will be helpful?” Justice asked, curious.

Anders sighed. “I don’t know, Justice. But I hope so. I find it hard to believe this has never happened to anyone before in the history of Thedas. If this could tell us something, _anything_ , that might help… I have to try.”

Justice nodded. “I understand. I do not know if I will be able to assist, but I would like to.”

“I’m not sure if you can help either, but we can try.” Anders gave him a soft smile. “This is as much for you as it is for me.”

Justice went silent for a moment, and Anders started moving towards his personal space, assuming the conversation was over. He was exhausted. Since they’d separated, Anders had found he’d needed more sleep, and tonight had been a significant source of stress for him. It was about time it was over.

“Anders.” Justice said, and the mage ignored the shiver that ran up his spine, wondering if he’d ever get used to hearing his name in Justice’s rumbling tone. “I appreciate the effort you are going to for my sake.”

Anders blinked, not understanding. “What do you mean?”

“I realize it must be difficult for you. You are trying to balance our situation, my concerns, with those that you had before.” Justice explained, “You brought me with you to spend time with your friends, and you made a constant effort to ensure I was comfortable, despite knowing that could cause conflict with the others. It was… I appreciate that.”

Anders took a step towards the spirit. “Justice, you don’t need to thank me for that. I’ve told you before: we’re friends. I care about you.”

Something shifted in Justice’s expression, but Anders couldn’t place it. “I care about you as well. Even if it was not necessary, it felt right to tell you this.”

Anders smiled softly again. “Alright, then. If it feels right to tell me something, then that’s always okay. This isn’t easy for either of us. I’m just trying to make it a little less hard.”

Justice seemed to consider his words, and after a long moment Anders decided to take advantage of the break. “Although it is getting late. I’d like to get some sleep if I can before someone bleeding from somewhere important interrupts it.”

The spirit missed the joke entirely, as Anders should have known. “I understand. I will be at the desk, as per usual. I hope your dreams remain untroubled.”

 _I suppose that’s his way of saying ‘sweet dreams’_. Anders thought to himself as he prepared for bed. He still hated having to devote so much more time to sleeping, and even eating, now that they were separated, but it wasn’t as if he had a choice. He could no longer substitute his physical needs with Fade energy, and he didn't Justice’s lack of understanding of such things to make them easier to forget anymore. And, sure enough, Anders fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow, beginning to find having Justice watching over him at night a great help in relaxing enough to actually get some rest.


	10. Chapter 10

A few weeks passed without incident. Justice seemed more restless the longer he spent in the clinic without being able to do much, but working on the translation helped to calm him some. The spirit couldn’t actually help directly, but Anders was finding his presence more and more soothing as well. They’d now taken to working side by side, legs just barely touching, and the lack of the ache in Anders’ chest greatly helped his focus. It still hurt when they weren’t directly touching, but it was becoming easier to deal with now that it wasn’t constant. The proximity to Justice, and the tension that brought, was distracting at first, but became more comfortable the more often it happened. It became easier to let himself enjoy the closeness instead of continuing to deny how much he wanted it.

The most annoying part of the translation, in Anders’ opinion, was definitely that he didn’t know where any potentially useful information would be until after the work had already been done. The tomes were huge, organized into a fair number of chapters, and they could spend days working out what an entire chapter meant only to discover it held nothing, as every chapter had so far. But Anders couldn’t risk skipping any of them on the off chance there would be something worthwhile hidden in the middle.

Justice, however, seemed to enjoy the process. Most of what they’d found focused on the Fade and the denizens of it, describing it in more detail than any Chantry-approved book ever did. For the spirit, this was reading about his home, a home he had not been to or even seen in the years they’d known each other. So even though a lot of what they found wasn’t helpful in the slightest, Justice seemed to delight in being reminded of his homeland, and Anders couldn’t help but smile whenever the spirit’s face lit up at any given passage.

When they weren’t working on the translation or Anders was tending patients, they ran some missions and helped with investigations of particularly unsavoury Templars for the Underground, and did some work on the manifesto, the latter of which had been neglected too much lately. They’d also discovered that occasionally, when Anders really hit his stride in writing with Justice helping, that the lingering connection they usually only felt during a fight could resurface. Anders began to hypothesize that it would come whenever they were truly aligned in something, whether it was battle, or just agreeing upon ideas for their work. Whether that was true or not, though Anders couldn’t help but speculate, those moments were welcome. They were the only times the mage felt whole again.

For the moment, Anders was taking a break from writing and reading for the sake of his eyes, instead mixing poultices and potions for when his patients came in while Justice helped by handing him ingredients and placing the finished products where they belonged. They’d fallen into a rhythm by this point, and having another set of hands to help really did make the process quicker. Anders ended up so focused on the process that he nearly yelped in surprise when he turned to see a quiet old lady standing behind him, a look of undisguised confusion on her face.

Because she was staring directly at Justice.

It seemed that the spirit in question had only noticed her a moment before Anders had, and the mage swallowed hard before speaking, hoping he could talk his way out of this. “Uh, hello. Is there anything I can help you with?”

She glanced at him for a moment, then continued to stare at Justice while addressing Anders, her words coming out in a bit of a disjointed ramble. “I have a cough that won’t go away and my son insisted I come by here to get it looked at. I’m sure it’s nothing, but he just wouldn’t listen, like always. What’s wrong with your friend there?”

Her voice was gravelly, suggesting something was indeed affecting her throat and lungs, but that was an observation that was only useful if she didn’t immediately flee after hearing whatever explanation Anders could come up with. Because ‘he’s a spirit that used to live in my body but is now trapped outside it and the Fade’ wasn’t something he thought would go over well. And it was also the sort of thing that repelled patients while attracting Templars instead. Not an ideal choice.

“That’s my, uh… brother.” Anders said quickly, realizing that there was nothing else he could say to explain why they looked the same. “There was a… tragic, ah… lyrium accident. Never seen anything like it before, so he’s staying with me until I can find a way to make him stop… glowing…”

Justice turned to Anders and gave him the universal look of ‘what the fuck are you doing’, though Justice would never say it quite like that, while the mage tried not to cringe at how terrible the lie was. But what else was he supposed to say? Most of the public didn’t know how lyrium worked beyond that it was a magic thing, it glowed, and it wasn’t something you should be touching. It was totally believable if you didn’t know much about the substance. Right?

The woman squinted up at Justice for a long moment, before turning to Anders and taking a deliberate step to the side, away from the spirit, in the rude way only the elderly could get away with. “He’s not going to make me sicker, is he?”

“No, no, of course not. He’s not a risk to anyone. It mostly just affects his appearance. And I’m working on fixing that.” Anders said quickly. “Now what was that about a cough?”

The woman then described her cough in more detail than Anders needed, while throwing in a few stories about her children and how they always told her she was sick when she was really fine that he didn’t need to hear either. But Anders was patient, and listened to every word as he went to grab the correct potion. It wasn’t a major affliction, so if she took the medicine she’d be fine.

“Take a spoonful of this twice a day until you run out. Once in the morning and once before bed.” Anders instructed as he handed her the potion. “If the cough doesn’t go away after that, come back and see me, okay?”

The woman nodded. “If nothing else, it’ll make my son stop pestering me about it.”

Anders gave her a smile as she turned to go, and heaved a sigh of relief once she was out of sight. Shit, that had been close. Up until now, he’d managed to keep Justice hidden from his patients. Neither of them liked it, Anders having to usher the spirit into his personal area every time someone knocked or walked in, but it was too risky to have him be seen and potentially reported to the Templars. But perhaps this lie would work.

“I think she actually believed me.” Anders said, a little shocked, looking at Justice now.

“You lied to her.” The spirit replied, not quite accusingly.

“I know, Justice. I just… didn’t know what else to say.” The mage sighed. “The truth would’ve just sent her running to the Templars.”

Justice hummed in deliberation. “I suppose you are correct. I dislike such deception, but it may be necessary. We already know some will see me as a demon and nothing else.”

“Exactly. I know you don’t like it, but maybe now you won’t have to hide every time someone comes in. Wouldn’t that be better?” Anders asked, hopefully.

The spirit paused again. “I suppose it would be preferable. I may be able to assist you in caring for your patients now. You can use my energy more frequently without causing suspicion.”

“Good point.” He actually hadn’t thought of that, and it was common knowledge mages used lyrium for their powers so it wouldn’t be too suspicious. “So we’ll just let that be our cover story, then.”

Justice agreed, and Anders continued working on his medicines. It was only then that he realized what he'd really done here: it was another excuse to be close to Justice. Already he’d given in, allowed himself to have more contact and closeness while they worked on the books and the manifesto, and now he’d found a way for Justice to be with him while he worked with his patients, the only time they were even close to being apart anymore, without even realizing it.

 _Fuck_. Anders thought he’d been trying to bury his feelings, to just focus on work and keep busy enough not to think about them, but that had completely backfired. He was caught, always being pulled closer to the spirit despite being fearful of what that could mean. It was beginning to become hard to remember why he was denying himself this in the first place. A part of him, a part that wasn’t small, wanted more than this, wanted to give in and let his desires win. But there was another part of him, the part that had kept him alive for so many years on kneejerk reactions alone, that was screaming for him to run.

He couldn’t actually run from Justice, of course; having to constantly be in the same area made that impossible and it was the constant proximity that made it so hard to deny his feelings and keep them under control. And now he was questioning why he was trying to in the first place. It was what he wanted, wasn’t it? He also strongly suspected it was what Justice wanted, given that the spirit always took any excuse to be closer to him. So why was he so afraid?

Anders wished he knew. With Hawke, when he’d had feelings for her, feelings that had dwindled over time, his fear had come from hurting her. He knew the relationship was doomed from the start, and that he wasn’t a good choice to get involved with for pretty much anyone. But with Justice… It didn’t feel the same. He wasn’t afraid of hurting Justice, of doing something that would cause a rift between them, and it wasn’t even that he was afraid of being hurt himself. It was something else.

The mage had always thought he didn’t deserve happiness or love, that it was something he just didn’t get to have no matter how badly he wished otherwise. But with Justice, he knew he could have what he’d always craved, and he knew that the spirit would be happiest with him. It seemed like a win-win, but something still held him back. Was it because Justice was a spirit? That didn’t make sense either. Sure, it was weird, and that’s what he’d thought it was before, but Anders liked both men and women, always believing that it wasn’t a person’s body you fell in love with, but the person themselves. Why would that be any different with Justice?

Anders shook his head, grinding a few leaves of elfroot harder than he needed to in frustration. He didn’t understand it, but he still couldn’t stop the nagging fear inside him. Even just the thought of pursuing this, of giving them both what they wanted, was enough for his stomach to churn uncomfortably. The fear didn’t make any sense, and it was the only thing that stood between him and having what he always truly wanted.

When he thought about it that way, it sounded so bloody foolish. It would be so easy to make himself, and someone he did indeed care about, happy. But he just couldn’t do it, nor could he force himself to walk away. He was caught in the middle, unable to bring himself to act towards either result, even though he knew which one he really wanted. It was so fucking stupid, and he knew it, but he still couldn’t stop.

Anders pressed the pestle in his hand down harder, grinding the bits of plant further into paste, and then his hand slipped, his finger getting smashed between the hard stone of the mortar and pestle.

“Maker fucking damnit!” Anders cried, his frustration finally coming out as pain shot through his finger.

Justice looked up with concern plainly written on his face, rushing over. “What is wrong?”

“It’s nothing, Justice. I just hit my finger.” Anders snapped, knowing he was being unnecessarily harsh as he poured healing energy into his hand.

Justice just looked at him, clearly noticing that something was off. Anders sighed. This internal war was beginning to get out of hand. He knew he should do something, either confess his feelings or close them off forever, but he couldn’t bring himself to do either. He was stuck.

“Really, it’s fine now.” Anders said, trying to smile while holding up his finger as proof. “Sorry for snapping at you. It hurt, that’s all.”

The spirit still looked disbelieving, but left it alone, as he usually did these days, Anders realized. He remembered Justice in Amaranthine being far more likely to pester, to keep asking after every little detail. The change was recent, and the mage wondered if it was his fault. All of his denial, every question he brushed off with little half-truths like that… Justice may have stopped asking because Anders had stopped answering. He missed that about Justice, and immediately felt guilty. Though, at this point, Anders felt like he was only a few prying questions away from revealing everything, and he still wasn’t sure if he wanted that or not.

They continued their work in near silence for a good portion of the day, Anders unable to stop his mind from circling around and overthinking everything over and over again. He knew they couldn’t keep going like this, that something was going to break. It was a thought that was both frightening and relieving.

It was getting to be nearly evening, almost time for a quick break to eat whatever meager scraps Anders had left to keep himself going, when Hawke walked in. The mage could already tell by the look on her face that something had happened, and that she’d come to ask for assistance.

“Hey, Hawke.” He greeted. “Something wrong?”

Justice heard him, and turned towards Hawke, giving her a slight nod of acknowledgement.

When she’d dropped by before, Hawke had generally insisted on asking him how he was doing before getting into the details. But that had stopped over the last few weeks, likely for the same reason Justice had also stopped asking questions. Anders always gave the same answers, and never actually said what was truly on his mind. Tonight was no different, and Anders felt another pang of guilt for pushing yet another person away.

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but are you busy?” She asked. “Do you remember Feynriel?”

Anders had to think for a moment, and it was Justice that answered. “The elven mage. We freed him from slavers and sent him to live with the others of his kind.”

“Is your memory better than mine?” Anders asked Justice, almost joking, though he had needed the reminder.

“The Fade is built upon memories. I am accustomed to them.” Justice answered simply.

Anders blinked, not actually having expected an answer, and then turned to Hawke. “I remember him now, yes. What happened? Did the Templars come for him anyways?”

“It’s, ah, a bit more complicated.” Hawke explained, and there was hesitation in her voice Anders didn’t understand. “He’s fallen into a deep sleep and no one can wake him. I was told he’d been plagued by dreams about demons before this.”

That got Justice’s attention. “Demons are targeting this mortal that desperately? He must have more powerful magic or a weaker will than we were told.”

Hawke seemed surprised. “Do you know something about this?”

Justice nodded. “I suspect he will not wake because he is trapped. A demon, or perhaps more, is likely attempting to possess him. He is trapped in its creation, unable to escape until he breaks it or succumbs. To drag a mortal so deep without provocation… it is unusual. Most demons will not put forth that much effort when there is much easier prey to be found among all who dream.”

Now Hawke looked like she was beginning to worry. “Feynriel’s mother has called the Keeper of the Dalish to perform a ritual and save him. We have to enter the Fade.”

Justice looked shocked, but intrigued by this. “And you wish for us to join you?”

“If you’d like to.” Hawke answered, also glancing at Anders. “I thought you, especially, Justice, might be able to help.”

“I am able.” The spirit answered quickly, moving to grab his things. “I will be ready to depart in just a moment.”

Anders opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. He didn’t oppose this, he was just a little put off that Justice hadn’t thought to ask his opinion. Then again, after weeks of reading about the Fade, and years without having seen it and believing he never would again, perhaps the spirit was simply so eager to go back he hadn’t thought to ask. Anders could understand that, even if he was slightly annoyed.

“You okay with this?” Hawke asked quietly.

“Yes, it’s fine. Even if he didn’t bother to even check with me first.” Anders said, pouting a bit.

Hawke chuckled. “Give him a break. He wants to help, and I can imagine he’d like to see the Fade again.”

“I know, I know.” Anders said, giving a small smile. “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

Justice returned a moment later, donning his cloak. “I am prepared.”

“Okay, just let me close the clinic down.” Anders said, doing just that before following the others and closing the door behind him.

* * *

It wasn’t long before the group made it to the alienage in Lowtown. They’d stopped to grab Isabela on the way to complete their party, and then ran into Merrill buying some groceries in the market. The elf wanted to tag along as well once Hawke explained the situation, and the five of them met up with Arianni and Keeper Marethari at the former’s home in the alienage.

The Keeper greeted Merrill with a hint of sadness in her voice, then explained the situation. It was as Justice suggested; Feynriel was special and that’s why he was being targeted. Supposedly, he was something called a ‘Dreamer’, a word Anders could vaguely remember maybe hearing at some point in the Circle. The mage clenched his jaw, not wanting to intrude but also deeply hoping no one was planning on sending him to the Gallows or, worse, making him Tranquil, though Anders knew both of those options would result in the same outcome. Hawke had made the right decision before, advising the boy to go to the Dalish, but this situation was getting more out of hand, and he couldn’t help but worry.

Marethari continued to explain the process, that she would put Hawke, and three others, into a deep sleep and send them to the Fade using lyrium. One person would have to remain behind simply because there wasn’t enough lyrium, so they would have to decide who before they could start. She went on to explain that this decision should be made wisely, as all who came would face temptation from the demons they encountered. The Keeper then wrapped up stating that she wished to speak to Hawke privately, likely discussing Feynriel’s future.

“You guys figure out who wants to go while we talk, okay?” Hawke said, receiving a chorus of nods and then following Marethari into a back room.

Anders knew they were discussing what to do with Feynriel, making him Tranquil likely not out of the question, but he tried to ignore it. There wasn’t much he could do whether he went or not but have faith in Hawke’s judgement, and in the fact that Justice would be there. The spirit would fight for Feynriel’s mind if it came down to that and Anders wasn’t present.

“Well, I’m an obvious choice.” Isabela declared confidently. “I never give in to temptation.”

Anders had the good sense to stifle his snort, but didn’t question it. Isabela might actually be a good choice. Everyone had desires, sure, but she was the type of person to go out and get them instead of letting them remain unfulfilled. It might harder for a demon to tempt her if she wasn’t one to deny herself what she wanted in the first place.

“Oooh please let me go! I’d love to see the ritual.” Merrill said excitedly. “This is all so fascinating.”

Justice then looked to Anders with an expression the mage would’ve described as pleading, though he doubted anyone else was able to discern the subtleties of Justice's expressions. Anders considered it for a moment, then smiled.

“I’ll stay. Justice, you should go. You’re better suited to this than any of us.” Anders said. “Our bodies won’t be separate this time, so we should be fine.”

“I will ensure this task is complete and the mortal is saved.” Justice declared to the party, then looked back at Anders. “Thank you.”

The mage couldn’t resist placing a hand on Justice’s arm, squeezing for a brief moment. He wished he could be there, to be with Justice as the spirit returned to his homeland. But perhaps it was better this way. He could watch from the outside and make sure nothing went wrong on this end.

Hawke returned, and Anders took his hand back, bracing himself for the now familiar ache.

“Okay, who’s coming and who’s staying?” Hawke said with a hardness in her voice that must have come from the conversation with the Keeper.

“I’m staying.” Anders said, and then looked to Keeper Marethari. “I’m a mage, too. I can help with the ritual, if you need me to.”

“That’s kind of you.” The Keeper then looked to Justice. “I’m not sure how this will work with your… friend along, but I don’t believe it will be a problem. Now, let us get started.”

Anders helped with the initial preparations of the lyrium and other materials while Marethari made sure the others were comfortable. The healer couldn’t help but glance at Justice every once in a while as he went, noting that to most, the spirit appeared to be the same as always. But Anders could tell Justice was both excited and nervous by the prospect of returning somewhere he had not been in a long time. He still wished he could be there, but he would be there when Justice returned. In truth, that’s likely when the spirit would need him most.

It wasn’t long before the ritual was ready, and Anders stood back as the Keeper prepared the spell. He didn’t know how to cast it, so he simply stayed out of the way, watching Marethari weave the magic with impressive skill. The others started to relax, their eyes looking heavy, and when the magic was released in a burst, they all fell asleep almost instantly.

At the same time Justice went limp, signaling that his mind was now in the Fade, Anders was hit with a wave of dizziness, almost overwhelming him. He nearly collapsed, stumbling and just barely stopped himself from falling as the world came back to normal. That had been unexpected, but the feeling was brief. Apparently the magic was strong enough to reach across his connection to Justice, but not enough to drag him down as well.

Anders then noticed Marethari was looking at him with concern. He waved a hand dismissively as he straightened.

“I’m fine, sorry.” He said, surprised to hear how tired his voice sounded. “Just a little dizziness.”

The Keeper pursed her lips, looking thoughtful. “You have a connection to that spirit, don’t you?”

“It’s ah…” Anders wasn’t sure exactly how to explain it. “Complicated. But yes, I do.”

Marethari nodded, but said no more, instead turning to watch over the others. Anders did the same, unable to stop himself from worrying. What he was anxious about, he didn’t really know, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to relax until Justice was conscious and had returned. It was the Fade; nothing truly horrible could happen, even if he was a spirit, but that didn’t mean the experience couldn’t be unpleasant. Maybe he just wanted Justice back already, but that wasn’t an idea the mage was willing to confront. Regardless, though, there was nothing he could do now but wait and hope everything went smoothly. Not that anything in either of their lives had ever gone smoothly before, but it was the only sliver of hope Anders had to hang on to.


End file.
